


Where Do We Go From Here?

by BleuReivers



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Attempted Murder, Horror, Jongho's the only one who's not really aged up, Monsters, Murder, Not sure how to tag that, Suspense, You ever feel like you're tagging too much and not enough at the same time?, lots of swearing, the rest are a few years older, they're all in college
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 78,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26770561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleuReivers/pseuds/BleuReivers
Summary: "Stay vigilant and do not lose yourself within The Coma. Write your name in the book of memories and remember who you are."Tutoring was easy. Couple of sessions a week was nothing, and the pay was good. What was more, Choi Jongho was an exceptional student, and a quick learner. But when Jongho suddenly falls ill Seonghwa can't help but want answers, and soon finds that some things should be left in the dark...
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. I Don't Much Care Where (Prologue)

The first thing Jongho was aware of was how very sore he was. His back and neck were the worst, the pain there reminiscent of the few times he’d fallen asleep in the middle of a lecture, hunched over his desk. As he blinked awake, he realized that must have been what happened. Sunlight shone brightly through the half-opened blinds of Professor Song’s classroom, and Jongho was surprised to realize he could actually hear the birds chirping outside. It wasn’t loud, but still… He yawned, giving his limbs a much needed stretch. 

_Everything’s louder when you haven’t heard it for a while, I suppose._

Jongho froze mid-stretch. That thought had come out of nowhere, what did it even mean? Come to think of it, he _had_ felt oddly relieved to see familiar surroundings when he woke up, but why? And why the hell was he in Professor Song’s classroom to begin with? Had he...had he _slept_ there? At his desk? Had he fallen asleep during class? 

_Don’t be ridiculous, Professor Song wouldn’t have just left you there._

His brow furrowed as he stared at his desk, unsure of what had happened the night before. If he concentrated, he could remember a few things here or there, but…

_That was all a dream, right?_

It had to have been. The things he remembered...there was no way any of it had been real. It couldn’t have been, it had to have been a--his thoughts were cut off as something hit his desk. Jongho screamed and jumped back in his seat, toppling it and sending him - as well as all his belongings - sprawling. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling and catching his breath, as a boy cautiously leaned into his line of sight. 

“Well that was certainly...entertaining.” The boy looked more amused than Jongho liked. 

Jongho narrowed his gaze, fixing the other with an intense glare. “What the _hell,_ Yeosang? Why would you _do_ that?”

“Why would I...what?” Yeosang thought for a moment before directing his gaze back at Jongho. “Why would I...tap your desk?” 

“Why would you _scare me_ like that?”

Yeosang rolled his eyes, seemingly unimpressed. “I tapped your desk.” 

“I was zoning out, you scared me half to death.” Jongho raised one hand in the air.

Yeosang sighed and took his outstretched arm, hauling the other to his feet. “You make it sound like I jumped out of the shadows or something.” He noticed a strange look cross over Jongho’s face, so he pressed forward. “Anyway, I’m glad you made it out.” 

Jongho paled. “Oh. So...I thought…”

“It was all a bad dream?” Yeosang laughed, but there was no joy in the sound. “I wish. No, that was all real.” 

“I think I might be sick.” 

“Well don’t throw up on me,” Yeosang said, taking a step back. “There’s a trash can over there.” 

Jongho brushed him off, choosing instead to right his chair and gather the belongings that scattered in the fall. Memories of the prior night came flooding back; it seemed confirming that everything had been real broke some sort of seal and he was helpless to stop them. 

Yeosang watched the other in silence for a moment, before kneeling down to help him collect his things. “You made it out, Jongho,” he finally said after a while. “That’s all that matters now, ok? The memories will fade.” He offered him a small smile. “Don’t worry.”

Jongho put his things in his bag, save for one item. That he opened for a moment, making sure everything was as it should be before clicking it shut once more. He traced over the hourglass etched into the silver cover a few times before meeting Yeosang’s gaze. “Will you go back?” 

“Yes,” the other replied, dropping his gaze. “But you don’t have to.” 

“But you’ll be alone.” 

Yeosang met his gaze again, a strange look in his eyes. “Maybe. Maybe not.” 

“What?”

The older boy ignored the question, instead reaching out and closing Jongho’s hand around the amulet. “Keep this safe, but not on you. Ok? That’s important. Don’t keep it on you. Find some place safe - somewhere no one knows about - and leave it there. Don’t touch it again. Do you understand me?”

“What do you mean maybe not?”

“Tell me you understand me, Jongho.” 

“Yeah yeah, I heard you. What did you mean?”

“What did I say?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. _What did I say_?” 

Jongho sighed. “Keep it secret, keep it safe.” 

Yeosang struggled to keep from smiling. “Jongho.”

“Put it somewhere safe and don’t touch it again.”

“Before nightfall.” 

“Don’t touch it again before nightfall.”

“No.” Yeosang squeezed Jongho’s hand in both of his. “ _Put it somewhere safe_ before nightfall.” 

Jongho opened his mouth, likely to joke back again, but something about the way Yeosang was staring at him made him decide against it. “Ok.” He nodded. “Put it somewhere safe before nightfall.”

“That’s important.”

“I thought not keeping it on me was important,” Jongho mumbled. 

This time, Yeosang let himself smile. “Ha. You _were_ listening.” He released the other boy’s hand and stood, stretching slightly. “It’s all important. But not touching it after the sun goes down is more important, ok? If you can’t find a place to keep it before tonight, that’s fine. Just keep it _somewhere_ , and look again tomorrow.” 

“Ok.” Jongho stood as well, slinging his bag over his shoulder and placing the amulet in the pocket of his jacket. “I’m gonna head down to the cafeteria, see if I can’t get something to eat. I’m starving. Do you want to tag along...or do you need to be somewhere?”

Yeosang looked slightly alarmed. “Wait, what? Aren’t you going home?”

“Nah,” he said, checking the time on his phone. “I have math in like, 45 minutes and Mad Dog does _not_ tolerate tardiness. Plus my grades in math kind of suck for some reason…” he paused. “Though I guess you already know that. Anyway, I can’t really afford to miss a whole class, which is what’ll happen if I’m even one minute late and you don’t care about any of this, do you?” 

“Your math grade doesn’t suck.” Yeosang dug in his bag, producing a sheet of paper that he then handed to Jongho.

“What’s that?”

“Your marks.” Yeosang waved it at the other. “Your _real_ marks. Something wasn’t adding up so I did some digging after we split up last night. Turns out someone was tampering with your grades. I took the liberty to fix them.” 

Jongho frowned as he looked at the paper being thrust at him. “I don’t like cheating.”

“It’s not cheating. I didn't just fudge the numbers to make you pass. You earned those marks, they were just being credited to someone else.”

“Hmm…” Jongho glanced at him, uncertainty lacing his features. “It still feels like cheating though.” 

Yeosang sighed. “You’re not cheating. Someone else was." 

"Who?"

"It doesn't matter. What matters is, your marks are fine. Your professors will likely just chalk everything up to some weird glitch, and that'll be that." Yeosang waved the paper in Jongho's face a little, once more prompting him to take it. He did.

“If I accept these, are you going to ask me to go home?” 

Yeosang bit his lip. He looked more anxious than Jongho had ever seen him and, considering what they’d gone through, that was unsettling. “Yes. Yes, you need to go home and do as I said. Your grades are fine, you can miss a class.” 

Jongho started shaking his head before Yeosang had even finished speaking. “No. Mad Dog’s not my only problem, ok? My parents have been on me about my grades, I can’t just show up at home when I’m supposed to be attending a class they know I’m failing.” 

“You’re not failing--”

“I was yesterday, and now I’m just supposed to...what? Tell them my grades improved overnight??” His eyes grew large. “Dammit, they’re gonna wonder where I was last night, too!” He shook his head. “There’s no way I’m going home.” 

“Jongho--”

“Look, my last class gets out at 4:00. My parents will be at work by then. If I skip dinner I won’t have to be back here until 7:00 for tutoring--”

Yeosang opened his mouth to object, but Jongho held up a hand. 

“--which I _will_ still be attending, even if just for tonight. I can’t just blow it off, and I don’t have any other way to contact my tutor. I’ll talk to him tonight and explain the mix-up with my grades...somehow. Anyway, the point is, I’ll go home before tutoring and take care of the amulet, ok? I’ll be back here before the sun even considers setting, _and_ I won’t have to figure out what I’m going to tell my parents just yet.” He smiled and nodded. 

“Just tell them you fell asleep in the library and the cleaning crew didn’t see you before they locked up for the night.” 

“That’s a good idea.” Jongho readjusted his bag. “But I’m still not going home.” 

Yeosang glared at him, but he knew he'd lost. He sighed. “But you promise you’ll go home after your last class?” 

“Yes.” 

“And you’ll take care of the amulet?” 

“ _Yes._ ” Jongho chuckled quietly. He didn’t mean to, he knew Yeosang was genuinely concerned and honestly, given how the other had acted toward him when they first met, he was kind of touched. He was stressing over nothing, Jongho had every intention of doing as he said...but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to give Yeosang a little extra reassurance. “I promise I will take care of the amulet before the sun goes down. Ok?” 

Yeosang still looked unsure, but he figured there wasn’t much he could do if Jongho’s mind was already made up. “Ok. But if you end up back there again tonight, I won’t be able to bail you out. I won’t be anywhere near the university.” 

“Yeah yeah...are you joining me for breakfast or not?” 

Yeosang checked the time, then shrugged. Why not? He wasn't sure when - if ever - he'd see the other again. “Lead the way.” 

Jongho punched the air before heading out of the classroom. “Cool. You might even be able to meet some of my friends!” 

Yeosang walked beside him, eyes fixed on the ground, his only response a small nod. He wasn’t really up for meeting new people, but he figured it wouldn’t be a big deal. Jongho's personality wasn't _too_ overwhelming, all things considered, so it was possible his friends were the calm and quiet type. In any case, he couldn't fathom anyone could be very loud so early in the morning.

  
  


\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  


Yeosang ran as fast as his feet would carry him. Why, he couldn’t say. It wasn’t because he thought Jongho had lied to him, there was no way. He wouldn’t dare ignore Yeosang’s warnings, not after the things he’d seen. Not after how close he came to _not_ making it out. But that didn’t stop the feeling in his stomach, the rock that had planted itself there the moment he’d seen the news. 

A Sehwa University student collapsed during an after school study program and had been rushed to Sehwa Hospital. Cause: unknown. Condition: unknown. Name: unknown. But Yeosang knew. Somehow he knew, even though he told himself the entire way there that there was just _no way._

He pushed through the front doors, barely slowing down before barreling toward the reception desk. He hit the desk a little too hard, shocking the woman sitting behind it and briefly reminding himself of the morning before. “Choi Jongho,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “He was brought in last night from Sehwa University.”

“Are you--” 

“I’m his brother.” Yeosang tried to calm himself. “I’m sorry...I...I just found out, I got here as fast as I could. Please…” The desperation in his voice must have convinced her, because the nurse nodded and began searching. 

_Tell me you can’t find him,_ Yeosang thought. _Tell me he’s not here._

The nurse continued to search and for a brief moment, Yeosang allowed himself to breathe. Any second now, she would tell him she couldn’t find him. He was sure of it. 

“I’m sorry,” she started, her brow furrowed. “I can’t seem to find hi--oh!”

Yeosang felt his heart stop.

“Here he is, room A403. If you could just sign in here...sir?” 

Yeosang blinked a few times before giving his head a shake. “Sorry, what was that?” 

“You’ll need to sign in. And I’ll need to see some form of ID.” 

Yeosang patted his pockets before sighing. “You know what, I think I left it in my car. Let me go grab it real quick.” He forced a smile before turning and leaving. He’d have to find another way into A403, but that wouldn’t be too difficult. It certainly wasn’t the first time, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Still, this one stung a bit more than the others.

It didn’t take him too long before he was standing outside Jongho’s room, a bitter taste in his mouth. “You asshole,” he whispered, fists clenched at his sides. “You _promised._ ” He entered the room, eyes immediately searching for the younger boy. There were a few beds in the room, all full. According to the charts on the end of the bed, Jongho occupied the one closest to the door and Yeosang quickly made his way around the curtain that separated him from the other patients. The site of him rooted Yeosang to the spot. He hadn’t known Jongho long, but in the brief time he did know him he’d always been full of life. Not exactly loud, but certainly there. The boy that lay in the hospital seemed hollow, like it was just an empty shell. And, Yeosang supposed, that’s exactly what he was. Hollow. Empty. Lost. 

Gone.

_Why didn’t you listen to me?_ Yeosang’s stomach rolled as a second thought, far too ‘business as usual’, forced its way to the front of his mind. _Where’s the amulet?_

“Are you a friend of Jongho’s?” 

Yeosang jumped as someone gently grabbed him by the shoulder. He turned quickly, body on full alert. 

A man stood behind him, looking both surprised and cautious. “Whoa, easy there. I didn’t mean to startle you. You just weren’t here earlier.” The man was quite a bit older than Jongho and looked nothing like him, so Yeosang assumed he was neither friend nor family. But what did that leave?

Yeosang finally managed to find his voice, nodding fervently. “Yes. Yeah. We...from Sehwa.” 

The man furrowed his brow. “You’re a student at Sehwa University?” 

Yeosang nodded again. “Yes. We…” He thought for a moment. “We have math together. With...Mad Dog. We used to study together but his grades kind of got away from him so he...he was supposed to meet me for breakfast this morning, I got concerned when he didn’t show.” _Shut up shut up shut up, you’re saying too much._ “Are you a friend?” 

The man shook his head. “I’m afraid I might have replaced you as his study buddy.” When Yeosang didn’t reply, the man laughed uneasily. “I’m his tutor.” 

“Oh.” He tried to remember if Jongho had ever told him his tutor’s name. He didn’t think he had. “He’s talked about you a couple times. You really helped him out.” 

“Well, it seems he never really needed any help.” The man frowned. “Apparently there was some sort of glitch that messed with his grades? I wasn’t really listening when his parents told me.” 

“Has the doctor said anything?”

“What?”

Yeosang pointed to Jongho. “Has the doctor said anything. About his condition? How serious it is, how rapidly he's declining, anything like that.” 

“Only that they couldn’t find any apparent cause. He just...collapsed.” The look on the man’s face shifted. He looked almost...frightened.

"Did something happen?"

"No." The tutor seemed to think for a moment, before shaking his head. "Yes? I don't...I don't know. He was just...I don't know. Acting weird, I guess?"

Yeosang looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, when I got there, he was asleep at one of the desks.” 

“Dumbass,” Yeosang hissed. Of course he fell asleep, of _course_ he did. 

If the other heard him, he didn’t show it. “When I woke him up, he seemed ok? But as soon as he realized what time it was and _where_ he was, he started to panic.” 

"Panic...?"

"He was scared, more scared than I’ve ever seen someone.” 

“Well--”

“He kept talking about a promise. He promised someone something and he didn't do it. He thought they'd be mad.” The tutor frowned. "He kept calling himself a failure and a liar, kept saying he should have listened. It took me and a couple other tutors a few minutes to calm him down, and even then, he couldn't focus on anything. He kept glancing around, like he was...waiting for something? I don't know if that makes sense."

Yeosang was only half listening, his mind having latched onto the fact that Jongho had thought Yeosang would be mad at him. He supposed he was but...not _just_ at Jongho. _You shouldn't have backed down, you should have made sure he went home right then, no matter what. Now look what you've done._

“Do _you_ know something about this?”

Yeosang blinked and gave his head a small shake to clear it. “If I knew something about this would I be asking you for answers?” 

“You just seem...I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong but you seem like you know more than you're letting on.”

"You're wrong," Yeosang tried, but the tutor was persistent. 

"Your questions are specific, pointed. And when I mentioned the promise, you made this fac--"

“Does that look like the Jongho you know?” The anger in his voice was apparent, and Yeosang wasn’t sure if it was fake or not. “He’s my _friend,_ I just want to know what happened to him.” He dropped his gaze, surprised by the tears that threatened to spill. “Sorry if my questions are too _invasive_ for you, I'm just trying to figure this shit out, ok? He's never had anything wrong with him. I saw him yesterday morning, he was fine then. Happy, even. He...he’d found out about the glitch.” He shook his head. “This is just weird, and I hate seeing him like..." he gestured to the bed. "Like this."

The man was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything. You asked if I was his friend earlier and...it may be unprofessional but I think I was? He was a good student and we got along well. I enjoyed tutoring him.” He nodded. “This isn’t him, I agree. It’s unnerving seeing him like this. His vitals say differently but...he looks…”

_Dead,_ Yeosang thought. He was grateful to the man for not saying it out loud, though. “Wait.” Something the man had said suddenly hit Yeosang like a truck. “His vitals say differently?” He looked toward the small monitor near the head of his bed. “They say he’s _ok_?” 

“Yes? I mean...he is alive. Oh my god did you think he was dead?” 

Yeosang skirted around the bed to get a closer look at the monitor, his mind failing to make sense of what he was reading. “Yeah,” he answered absently. “I mean...dying at least. Is he not?” _What the hell?_ He thought. _What the hell what the hell what the_ hell _? He’s fine?_ Yeosang’s eyes glanced briefly to the curtain that separated Jongho’s bed from the other patients, some of which Yeosang knew too much about. How many times had he seen this happen? How many times had they all been slowly dying the longer they...but Jongho was _fine_?

“No, no, oh my god. I’m so sorry, I thought you knew! I would have said something sooner, he’s just in a coma.” 

Everything was too confusing, and Yeosang could feel the beginnings of a headache. He ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath. He needed the room. He needed to _think._ “Hey,” he said, his voice a little too loud but hopefully unsteady enough to convince the other that he was trying not to cry. “Can I...would you mind if I had a moment alone with him? This is all...you know?” 

“Yeah, I get it. Completely. Sure, I’ll be right outside if you need anything? I don’t really know what help I could provide I just...I’m gonna go now.” 

“Thank you.” He waited until the door clicked shut before checking to see if any of the other patients had visitors. Once he was sure the room was clear, he began looking around for any of Jongho’s belongings. He spotted a jacket hanging on the back of a chair near the bed, likely left by one of his parents. Yeosang checked both pockets for the amulet, but came up empty. He checked a couple bags on the chair but aside from the jacket, nothing really looked like it belonged to Jongho. And the kid’s hands were empty. Frustrated, Yeosang pulled out his phone. As it rang, he did his best to steady his breathing and voice. Finally, someone picked up on the other end. “I need you all at Sehwa Hospital tonight. We have a...situation.” He ran a hand through his hair again, turning to face Jongho. “I was right, it’s him but...the amulet’s not on him and...Hyung-bae, the kid’s alive. He’s fucking _alive_ alive _._ And I don’t think _he_ knows yet. This could be the break we needed." 

The conversation continued for a bit longer, with Yeosang giving minimal input. Finally, he hung up, his eyes still fixed on the boy in the hospital bed. He approached him and gently took one of Jongho’s hands in his own. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know you’re probably dealing with a lot right now and it’s not fair for me to ask anything else of you. I don’t even know if you can actually hear me but if you can, Jongho, wherever you are? You need to run. Doesn’t matter where. Just run. Because he's coming.” He gave his hand a squeeze. “But so am I. Remember when I said I couldn't bail you out again? I lied. I think I can. But only if you stay alive long enough for me to get to you. Run as fast as you can, don't stop. If you keep running, if you stay alive...I’ll get to you first." He gave his hand another squeeze, this one tighter than the last. "I'm going to get you out of there, Jongho. I promise.” 


	2. Curiosity Killed the Cat

_06.15 Weather is cloudy_

_For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been alone._

_Many books told me, look at the stars in the night sky and become the person who shines bright like those stars. But the sky that I looked up at had no stars at all. So, I continued to walk, with my gaze fixed firmly on the ground. Staying true to the path I’d always walked, I continued to meander listlessly through life. No friends. No family. No stars._

_No dreams._

_Then one day, a strange thing happened to me. As I was walking, someone started talking to me. “There’s nothing on the ground worth seeing, raise your head up!”_

_I did as asked, and was met with a bright smile. Though its owner was a bit weird, and though their eyes reflected the same sense of longing and listlessness as my own, their face had a soothing and pure glow that relaxed me instantly. I felt like they were someone I could trust, someone I could walk this path with, and maybe not feel so alone._

_From that moment, we ran into each other more than a few times. Sometimes, the meetings were short, while others would last for weeks. Seeing them, sharing our stories or just hanging out, was the most exciting part of my journey._

_For the first time, I actually felt alive._

_I started to anticipate our meetings, despite how sporadic they were. I didn’t know just how profoundly lonely I’d been until I had someone to walk with, even if just for a moment. When we were apart, life was tolerable. I kept on as I always had, doing what was expected of me, keeping my gaze fixed to the ground. But when we were together? It was as if time slowed down. I didn’t have to stay busy to distract myself from my seemingly expressionless existence. Despite my fears, my pain, the dangers I faced...despite them all, I was happy. Turning up the music, dancing together, laughing until we could hardly breathe, until our hearts were pounding out of our chests and the comfort of the others’ presence completely took over us...I lived for these moments._

_Was there ever a time when I treasured something this much? When I longed for something this badly?_

_One by one, more people began to call my name. The path that I walked alone, that I felt was only big enough for one other person, became a path for many. Slowly, what I once considered to be ‘my’ path became ‘ours’. ‘I’ became ‘we’. ‘Loneliness’ became ‘family’. I felt complete with them, like they were what this path had always been leading to, and the joy I felt with them infected me, warming my chest like a fever I had no desire to cure. And as I looked at them, I could tell they felt the same way. None of us wanted this to end. When we were together, life seemed somehow brighter. It wasn’t long before we realized why._

_Wandering around with this unknown fever, as we looked up at the endless sky that hung above our heads, stars started to shine bright and we were so...happy._

_I’ll never understand why it needed to end._

_-YS_

* * *

# PART 1 - THE AMULET

“You’re here early again.”   
  
Seonghwa jumped slightly, snapping his gaze up to the woman that stood in front of his desk, a soft smile on her face. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Seonghwa gave her a large smile and shook his head. “Not to worry, Professor Song, I was just thinking is all.” 

“About Jongho?” Her face shifted into concern. “You visit him regularly, right? Has there been any change in his condition?” 

With a shake of his head, Seonghwa allowed his gaze to fall. “No, no change at all.” The situation was almost unbearably frustrating because there’d also been no news on what had happened to him in the first place. The doctors knew just as much as they had when he’d been admitted three weeks prior. Seonghwa visited every other day, stopping by the hospital on his way to work. 

“Please let his parents know everyone here at Sehwa has them in our thoughts.” 

“I’ll tell them next time I see them.” As Professor Song returned to her desk, Seonghwa’s gaze was drawn to a pair as they made their way to back row. The first he recognized immediately as Kim Hongjoong, another tutor who helped out with the evening study program. Hongjoong usually helped Professor Noh’s students, so it was odd to see him in Professor Song’s class but Seonghwa figured his reason was the student whom he’d entered with. The two of them seemed to be having a rather intense conversation, which was another thing that struck Seonghwa as odd. He didn’t know much about the other student; he knew his name was Yunho and even though he was a student at Sehwa University, his presence there at that moment was as a tutor. Seonghwa saw him spend most of his time with Professor Mah’s students, but he - like Seonghwa - would occasionally provide assistance in other subjects, as well. The only other thing he knew about Yunho was that he was usually all smiles in the presence of others. In fact, his cheerful demeanor was the reason Seonghwa knew anything about the boy at all, as Yunho had taken it upon himself to introduce himself to all the tutors on the first day, should their students ever need any help with math that they themselves could not provide. He had one of the brightest smiles Seonghwa had ever seen, and it seemed to make those around him smile as well. Even Professor Mah, whose strict demeanor with his students had earned him the nickname ‘Mad Dog’, seemed to have a soft spot for the boy. 

Neither Yunho nor Hongjoong were smiling then, though. Their voices were low so Seonghwa couldn’t hear what they were saying but whatever it was, Hongjoong seemed extremely upset about it. Yunho didn’t seem to be quite as upset as Hongjoong, but he was getting there. It seemed that whatever he was saying was continually being cut off by the other, and Yunho was growing more irritated by the second. 

“ _Enough._ ” Both Seonghwa and Yunho jumped as Hongjoong slammed his hands onto the desk in front of him. “It has to be tonight, end of discussion.” 

Yunho opened his mouth, probably to argue, then decided against it and just dropped his gaze, nodding slowly. They spoke for a moment longer, but Seonghwa couldn’t hear anything else. He was surprised, however, to see the two hug at the end of it. Seonghwa quickly turned forward, hoping neither of them saw him trying to listen in. He didn’t know what he’d say if they knew and confronted him about it, he had no idea why he’d listened in at all. Sometimes his curiosity just got the best of him. Hongjoong knocked on Seonghwa’s desk as he passed, giving him a small wave when he caught his eye. Seonghwa waved back, turning back to Yunho once Hongjoong left. The other met his gaze, and Seonghwa took the opportunity to mouth _are you alright?_ Yunho smiled at him and nodded, before mouthing _thanks._ Seonghwa considered going over to talk to him, but Professor Ko called for everyone’s attention, and the two were assisting students in no time.

* * *

Seonghwa sighed, nursing his green tea as he stared at the wall. He wasn’t sure how much of his break was left, but he was sure it was ending far too soon for his liking. Working with Jongho had never felt like a chore, but he’d also been a great student. _Who apparently didn’t need help,_ he thought. _Maybe that’s why it seemed so easy._ Not that the students he worked with now were difficult, just...Jongho had definitely picked things up quicker than they did. Not to mention, continuing to tutor other students after everything had happened was probably a poor decision on Seonghwa’s part. He’d thought it would be fine, after all Jongho was his student, they weren’t actually friends.   
  
_He was a good student and we got along well. I enjoyed tutoring him._

When had he said that? It took him a moment to remember, but he did. He’d said it to that man that had visited Jongho, the one Seonghwa found out later wasn’t a friend of his at all. What a strange day that had been. The individual had seemed so genuinely concerned for Jongho, but what if Wooyoung had been right? What if he had just been looking for something? Seonghwa reached into his pocket and pulled out the odd silver pendant. The doctor had found it in Jongho’s hand, and Seonghwa had taken it in a daze. When Wooyoung asked him later that day if Jongho had had anything on him, something had told Seonghwa to say no, to keep the weird pendant a secret. He hadn’t thought much of it in the past few weeks, having left it in the drawer of his desk at home. Something had made him pull it out again earlier that afternoon, though. He’d looked it over for a moment, noting just how intricate the hourglass etched into the cover was. That’s how he’d found the small latch on the side, how he’d found the picture held within. 

It was of a small girl, one that looked very familiar to Seonghwa. At first he couldn’t figure out who the girl reminded him of, but he realized the night prior that she reminded him of Professor Song. He’d thought to bring the pendant with him to give to her, to ask if it was hers, and had completely forgotten. He wasn’t sure why Jongho would have had it if it belonged to her, but Jongho was a good kid and if he’d found it somewhere, Seonghwa didn’t doubt he’d have tried to return it. That was probably why he’d had it.

A loud crash pulled Seonghwa from his thoughts. He turned toward the sound, only to find what looked like the beginnings of a fight. 

“Stay out of my way, asshole!”

“Literally fuck _off_ , Myung-Gil.” 

Wooyoung was on the ground, next to a man Seonghwa didn’t know but who, by the looks of it, wasn’t a student at Sehwa University. He was about Wooyoung’s height, with black hair and sharp features. His attire was oddly casual, just jeans and a t-shirt, but the jacket he wore caught Seonghwa’s eye immediately. It was dark black, probably leather, and adorned with haunting blue flames. The man sat up, dusted off his jacket, and gave Myung-Gil a huge smile. Seonghwa swore his teeth were too sharp to be human, but he figured he was just tired.

“Now boys, there’s no need for hostility,” he said, getting to his feet. 

Judging by the Devespresso bottles scattered around him and Wooyoung, he had likely been in the middle of stocking the vending machines when whatever altercation had taken place. He helped Wooyoung to his feet, then began to collect the scattered bottles. 

“He was stealing from you!” Wooyoung said. He fixed Myung-Gil with a piercing glare. “He’s still trying, he still has it.” 

“It’s not a big deal,” the man said, attempting to calm the other. “It’s like, two dollars.” 

Wooyoung shook his head, eyes never leaving the other student. “It’s not his, he has no right.” 

“It’s alright, Wooyoung.”

“Yeah, Wooyoung, Mr. Dokkaebi and I are friends.” Myung-Gil’s voice was higher than usual, mocking, and he sneered at Wooyoung in triumph. “He gives me free stuff all the ti--”

Wooyoung lunged at Myung-Gil, catching the other off guard and landing a heavy hit on his jaw. Myung-Gil stumbled a bit but was able to catch himself. He turned quickly, grabbing Wooyoung’s arm and bending it behind his back. Still, Wooyoung didn’t back down. “Apologize! Give it back and apologize!” 

“Listen you little shit, I--”

Seonghwa stood quickly, fixing Myung-Gil with a steely gaze. “I think that’s enough, Myung-Gil, don’t you?” 

Myung-Gil started, eyes growing wide as he spotted and recognized Seonghwa. He released Wooyoung quickly and took a few steps back. “Seonghwa-ssi, hi! We...uh...we were just messing around.” 

“I hope you don’t think I believe that.” 

Myung-Gil knew he was caught and hastily dropped his gaze. “Oh. Um…”

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

Seonghwa sighed. His breaks never felt long enough. “That’s your next line, Myung-Gil. _I’m sorry._ ” 

“Oh. Right. I’m sorry.” Something seemed to click then, because Myung-Gil hastily turned toward Mr. Dokkaebi and pulled two bottles of Devespresso out of his jacket pockets, handing them over. “I’m sorry, Mr. Dokkaebi. I...wasn’t really going to take them.” 

“I’m sure.” Mr. Dokkaebi accepted the bottles, setting them down with the others he had just finished collecting from the floor. When nothing else was said, Myung-Gil turned and all but ran from the cafe. Mr. Dokkaebi chuckled, before turning his attention to Wooyoung. “He would have beat the shit out of you, you know.” 

Wooyoung seemed to have not heard him. “Seonghwa-hyung...what is that?” 

“What is...what?” Seonghwa suddenly remembered the pendant. “Oh, this? It’s just something I found, I think it’s Professor Song’s. I forgot to give it to her earlier.” He quickly placed the pendant back into his pocket and adjusted his bag. “I should probably head back, actually.” Wooyoung stared at him with a look Seonghwa couldn’t place, but that made him very uncomfortable nonetheless. “I’ll see you in there?” 

“Yeah, probably,” was all Wooyoung said. 

Seonghwa smiled at him and turned to leave, tossing what remained of his green tea into the trash can on his way out and giving Mr. Dokkaebi a wave. The pendant felt heavy in his pocket, and he couldn’t get the way Wooyoung was looking at him out of his head. The sooner he gave it to Professor Song, the better.

* * *

Seonghwa yawned and stretched before gathering his things. He’d stayed a bit later than usual, using the time to respond to any students that couldn’t make that evening’s sessions by email. By the time he’d finished, He was the only one left in the classroom. He reached in his pocket to retrieve his phone so he could check the time and froze when he wrapped his fingers around something cold and round. 

_Park Seonghwa, you absolute fool._

He pulled the pendant out of his pocket and stared at it in frustration. How in the hell had he forgotten to give it to Professor Song? Hadn’t he meant to do so immediately after the break? Why hadn’t he? 

_Because Dahyun called you to say she wouldn’t make it tonight, and then started rattling on about the blood moon._

Seonghwa sighed, shoving the damned thing back into his pocket and grabbing his things. He could deal with this tomorrow. As he exited the study room, something at the end of the hallway caught his attention. The hall was fairly dark, but a door at the end opposite him was open, spilling a small column of light across the floor. Someone stood in front of the door, and Seonghwa had to squint to try to see who it was. As his eyes adjusted, he was able to see the figure’s face more clearly and was surprised to see it was Wooyoung. 

Wooyoung was staring at him but the poor light made it difficult for him to make out his expression. After a moment, Wooyoung turned his attention to the open door in front of him, and he disappeared into the room. Seonghwa racked his brain trying to remember what was at the end of the hall...he could have sworn it was the new storage room but that room was always locked. Why would Wooyoung have a key? And what was he doing in the school so late at night? 

Simply leaving, knowing a student was in the school after hours, didn’t sit right with Seonghwa. Something seemed off, and a part of him wanted to just report the incident and have someone else handle it. If it had been anyone else, he would have done just that but it wasn’t anyone else, it was Wooyoung. He knew Wooyoung and certainly didn’t want him in any sort of trouble. Besides, he knew Mad Dog often punished students by having them clean up in the old storage room, maybe that’s what had happened. If he’d found out about the altercation between Wooyoung and Myung-Gil, or if something else had happened...that would explain why Wooyoung had a key and why he was still there so late. 

Seonghwa made up his mind. He’d confront Wooyoung on his own, figure out what was going on, and then insist he go home for the night. It was late, afterall. He’d just offer to speak to Mad Dog and explain the situation tomorrow. If things for some strange reason got out of hand, then he’d take more severe measures. With a firm nod to finalize his plan of action, Seonghwa headed down the hall and into the room he’d seen Wooyoung enter just moments before. 

If it was the new storage room, Seonghwa had no idea what they were planning to store in there. The space was small and looked more like a janitor’s closet than anything, and very clean. Well, so much for the cleaning-as-punishment theory. There was a window at the end of the room with a telescope set up in front of it. One look at the eerie red light coming in through said window told him it was probably set up to view the blood moon. 

_Was that what Wooyoung was doing? Wait...where_ is _Wooyoung?_

Seonghwa glanced around the room, frowning. Wooyoung wasn’t in the room but aside from the window there was no way out. And there was no way he jumped out the window, right? They were on the third floor...feeling a little panicked, Seonghwa ran toward the window and peered out to the ground below, breathing a sigh of relief when he didn’t see Wooyoung at all. What was more, the window itself was shut tight. The frown returned and Seonghwa turned back to the room, scanning it again. He couldn’t understand where Wooyoung could have possibly gone; had he gone into the wrong room? Was it possible he’d seen Wooyoung enter the stairwell as well?

No. Seonghwa was certain he’d seen Wooyoung enter the storage room but if that was the case...where was he? As he thought, his eyes landed upon something written on the wall. The script wasn’t one he recognized, and upon further inspection he thought it actually might have been some kind of sigil. What they were wasn’t what caught Seonghwa’s attention, he was more focused on what they appeared to be drawn _with._ He took a few steps closer to the drawings, hesitantly reaching out a hand and touching one of them. The drawings were red, wet and, to his horror, warm. 

_Blood blood blood that’s blood._

Seonghwa wiped his hand on his pants in a panic, trying to get the substance off of him as quickly as possible. “What the _fuck?_ ” He took a step back but halted when his eyes landed on a book just below the drawings, surrounded by unlit candles. Part of him wanted to run, to get as far away from that place as possible, but another part of him was curious. That was the part that was winning. He moved closer to the book and was surprised to find its pages...blank. He only had a second to ponder this before his eyes darted up to a picture frame behind one of the candles, and he felt his blood run cold. Hastily, he pulled the pendant out of his pocket and opened it, revealing the picture inside. He pulled it out and clicked the pendant shut before replacing it in his pocket. His eyes darted between the photo in the frame and the one in his hand, back and forth and back and forth. 

_That’s the same girl. What the hell was Jongho doing with a picture of this girl?_

With his free hand, he carefully picked up the frame to examine it closer. As he did, he heard something crinkle under his grasp. Turning the picture over, he was surprised to see a note attached to the back of the frame. 

Seonghwa’s eyes scanned over the hastily scribbled text, unaware that he was whispering the words out loud. “Tonight, the fourth and final blood moon of the dark tetrad rises. When the Great Gnashing begins, the Umbran Gates shall swing open, and welcome my Murderous Brother to walk our world. Only then will he relinquish his claim on my damned soul...what the hell does that mean?” 

Before he’d even finished his question, a cold breeze blew through the room and all the lights went out. Seonghwa was left in the darkness, lost and starting to panic, for just a moment before the candles all lit. As their flames danced in front of his eyes, Seonghwa felt the room start to spin. He pitched forward, frantically grabbing for the table the book rested on, trying to keep from passing out. What the hell was happening to him? His body gave out all at once and he hit the floor hard, barely having the strength to roll onto his back. As he began to lose consciousness, he was dimly aware of a figure standing over him. The figure knelt down and pulled something from his pocket before speaking.

“Oh look, you brought me the amulet,” the figure said. Their voice sounded miles away, but Seonghwa still recognized it. 

“W...Wooyoung?” 

Wooyoung sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re just so predictable, you know that?” Before he could say more, he quickly stood and turned. “What? Again? Dammit!” Wooyoung whispered something to him then, something Seonghwa couldn’t quite register. He was barely aware of Wooyoung leaving. He tried to call out to him, but it was no use, he was too far gone.

_Don’t drop it,_ he thought, before finally slipping into unconsciousness.

* * *

# PART 2 - THE COMA

_“He got away again. He’s deceptively fast...dropped something, though.”_

_“Hmmm...I think that’s just a lighter. Not what we’re looking for, and certainly not my main concern.”_

_“Do you recognize him?”_

_“Yes. He’s one of the tutors with the evening study program.”_

_“What the hell is he doing in the coma? How did he get here?”_

_“Doesn’t matter. He’ll be lucky if he even makes it through the witching hour, but that’s not our problem. We need to stay focused.”_

_“Where’s Hyung-bae? I haven’t seen him since we arrived.”_

_“He-”_

_“-said he had more pressing priorities. All you need to worry about is catching that kid before he causes any more trouble. I’ll find the Moon Incense. Everyone else, you know the Minister’s orders. Remember, our realms are only in sync tonight. We’re operating on limited time and can’t afford to make mistakes.”_

_“No use waiting around then, let’s move out.”_

Seonghwa came to slowly, aware only of the throbbing in his head. He looked around a bit, trying to get his bearings, before his last conscious thought drifted back to him.

_Don’t drop it._

Seonghwa brought his hands up to his face and noticed his left one was clenched tightly in a fist. He slowly opened it, surprised to see the photo from Jongho’s pendant - no, _amulet_ \- slightly crumpled in his palm. He felt around a bit as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, and he paused when his hand struck something smooth and cold. He picked it up, bringing it closer to his face to examine it and, as he did, one of the voices from his dream came to him. 

_I think that’s just a lighter._

Slowly, as if the object would explode in his hands if he moved too quickly, Seonghwa opened the lighter and tried to spark it to life. He failed a few times before slamming it closed in frustration. His body was still waking up and thus not completely listening to him. What the hell had happened? Where was he? He closed his eyes, trying hard to remember. God, why did his head hurt so badly? 

_I fell...I got dizzy after reading the note on the back of the picture and I fell and then…_

_“You’re just so predictable.”_

Seonghwa opened his eyes with a start, his hand already moving to his pocket to find...nothing. Jongho’s pendant was gone. Someone had taken it but...who? Did he know? If he did, he couldn’t remember. Instead, he studied the lighter as best he could in the failing light. That voice again floated into his mind, clearer this time, and Seonghwa paused. He knew that voice...but that wasn’t possible. He closed his eyes again, this time trying to remember the voices in his...he hesitated to call it a dream now. There were three distinct voices, that he knew for sure. Which meant three people. One of them spoke more than the others, and that was the voice he focused on now, trying to recall everything they’d said. The more he remembered, the more certain he was. He’d heard that voice a few times before, including on his first day as a tutor at Sehwa University. 

_So now Yunho’s a part of this, too?_

Whatever _this_ was, Seonghwa had no idea. All he knew was it had to be some cult bullshit. He couldn’t begin to wrap his mind around a cult using a storage closet at a prestigious university as their base of operations but if he was being honest with himself, it wasn’t the strangest thing he’d had to consider that evening. He sighed again, deciding again to try the lighter. This time it sparked on the first try, pushing the darkness away and surrounding him in a small circle of warm light. He focused on the small flame, watching it dance for a moment and allowing its lazy movements to relax him and clear his mind. He finally pulled his gaze away from the flame, blinking away the light for a moment before holding the lighter out and surveying the surrounding room. 

_Well that can’t be right._

Seonghwa got to his feet and looked around him, swinging the lighter from side to side. The room he was in wasn't huge but it was certainly bigger than he remembered it. Dirtier, too. He finally spotted the weird altar he’d seen earlier, but this time it looked as if something was written in the book. Moving slowly - his body was still waking up - he approached the book to get a closer look.

**_Tutor -_ **

**_Stay vigilant and do not lose yourself within The Coma. Write your name in the book of memories and remember who you are. - YS_ **

Tutor. That had to be him. Someone had left a note for him. Why? The rest of the page was filled with signatures, including a few Seonghwa recognized. Yunho’s name was there, which didn’t quite surprise him. What did surprise him was just how often it was in there, sometimes multiple times per page. A few other names were like that, the most recent ones seemed to be Yunho, someone named Mingi, and…

“Hongjoong?” He hoped it was a different Hongjoong but somehow he doubted that was true.

_It has to be tonight, end of discussion._ That’s what Hongjoong had said to Yunho earlier in the evening. God, if he’d known it was something cult related he definitely would have been more concerned. He continued to look through the book, noting how many times Hongjoong’s name appeared, when he paused. Roughly ten pages back, signed neatly at the bottom of the page, was _Jongho._ Seonghwa leaned closer to inspect the signature but he didn’t need to. He recognized the handwriting. “Jongho...what the hell did you do?” 

He spent a few more moments digging through the pages, trying to see if anyone else stuck out to him. Only one name did. About a page before Yunho’s name started appearing, the name _Taehoon_ showed up numerous times, almost always signed directly before or after Hongjoong. The name stuck out to him not only for that reason, but because when he’d first started working at Sehwa, a teacher with that same name had been hospitalized. Everyone talked about it, enough that Seonghwa asked Jongho about it. Jongho told him everything he’d known, which was just that he taught math, was well liked by the students (probably because he wasn’t Mad Dog), and he had a brother at the school who was working to keep things quiet. Other than that, no one really knew anything, least of all why he was hospitalized. He hadn’t given it much thought before, but the presence of both Taehoon’s and Jongho’s names in the book, along with the fact that both of them were hospitalized suddenly, made Seonghwa’s stomach churn. Whatever this cult was up to, it was bad. 

Ever the curious type, Seonghwa flipped to the first page of the book in an effort to see who the first person who signed was. There, in the top left corner of the first page, was the name _Yeosang._ Surprisingly, scribbled just below it and looking as if it was purposely squeezed into the space between the first and second name, was “ _Jung Wooyoung”._ Even if Seonghwa could talk himself into believing it was another Wooyoung, there were just too many people he knew in the book for him to be completely confident. 

“Literally how,” he said out loud, squeezing his eyes shut. “How could I have been surrounded by this many cultists and not have known?” Even as he said it, though, he knew something about that wasn’t right. Jongho was a good kid, he knew that much, and Wooyoung was one of his best friends. He got into a lot of altercations with Myung-gil, but he was never the instigator. In fact, as far as Seonghwa could remember, Wooyoung was always getting into fights in an attempt to _defend_ someone. He’d always thought it was somewhat unfair of Professor Mah to discipline both of them when Myung-gil was so clearly the one in the wrong every single time. No, Wooyoung was a good kid, too. It was more likely that Wooyoung had stumbled upon the cult by accident. Seonghwa thought maybe the same had been true about Jongho. 

Ultimately, however, he’d have to accept that he couldn’t really say for sure. Seonghwa could make the same argument for Hongjoong; he didn’t know him as well as he knew Jongho but he’d spent a good amount of time with him and if asked prior to that night, he would have said Hongjoong couldn’t hurt a fly. He sighed, flipping back through the book until he found the page with the note on it. “Record your name in the book of memories…” Seonghwa thought for a moment before sighing again, grabbing the quill beside the book, and signing his name. “It’s not like I’m actually joining the cult,” he mumbled, in an effort to justify his actions. In reality, the note being addressed to him creeped him out, and doing as it said provided a bit of relief. It wasn’t like it was legally binding or anything, he’d omitted his surname just like everyone else. 

_Except Wooyoung,_ he thought. _That’s...weird._

Seonghwa opened the lighter again, igniting the flame and looking around the room once more. He couldn’t figure out why it looked so much bigger, but he was sure he knew about where the door was supposed to be. He couldn’t quite tell if it was there because the lighter really didn’t provide much light, but he figured he’d have to just deal with what he had. “I’ll have to track down a flashlight soon,” he said, before hanging his head in shame. Clicking the lighter shut, Seonghwa placed it into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “At this rate, I doubt I’ll survive the night,” he said with a laugh. He turned on the flashlight on his phone and directed it where he thought the door was. To his relief it was right where he thought it was, though he didn’t remember any vines growing through the walls. But, there they were, and vines couldn’t just grow in seconds.

Seonghwa shrugged it off. He was tired, his head hurt, it was late. He just wanted to go home, go to bed, and forget all about the entire disappointing day. If Sehwa University had a vine problem, that wasn’t _his_ problem. He’d probably feel bad for thinking that way later, but as it stood he was just...done. He couldn’t even remember why he was in the storage room to begin with. He readjusted his bag, looking through it quickly to make sure nothing was missing, left the room, and pulled the door shut behind him. As he turned, allowing the light from his phone to illuminate the hallway, Seonghwa started screaming. 

The hall - which he _knew_ was empty when he’d entered the storage room - was full of bodies. Some reached toward him from the floor, others were headless or missing limbs, and still more hung from the ceiling. Seonghwa dropped his phone as he reeled back against the door, fumbling with the doorknob for a moment before losing all the strength in his legs and just sliding to the floor. His phone hit the tile and slid toward one of the bodies, stopping flashlight-side-up in front of it. Lit from below, the figure’s face - which appeared to be melting - seemed even more grotesque and, had Seonghwa not been completely out of breath, he would have continued on screaming. Still, he did his best to put as much distance between himself and the bodies, stopping only when one of the ones from the ceiling came loose and hit the floor beside him. Seonghwa yelped, almost throwing himself across the floor to get away from it. Unsure of what else to do and consumed by fear and the knowledge that he was completely surrounded, Seonghwa...froze. All fight left him as he lay on the floor in a heap, eyes locked on the body that fell from the ceiling, waiting for it to regain consciousness and attack him. He simply couldn’t take any more surprises that evening, and if ‘consumed by random zombies’ was how he was supposed to go, well, he wasn’t going to fight fate. So he stared, and waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

Aside from some kind of murky substance that seemed to leak from the walls and drip from the ceiling periodically, nothing moved, no matter how long Seonghwa waited. Eventually, he was able to get back to his feet and inspect the bodies a bit closer. He started with the one on the floor, near his phone (which he snatched up quickly, just in case the body decided to try something). Shining the light on it from different angles, Seonghwa was able to determine that, at least that one, seemed to be made of some kind of wax-like substance. He hesitated to call it wax right out; whatever it was was kind of sticky and smelled horrible, but the body wasn’t real. He inspected some of the others, including the one that had fallen from the ceiling, and found them to be made of the same material. He closed his eyes, took a deep, calming breath, paused, then reared back and kicked one of the bodies as hard as he could. It made a sort of wet, squelching sound and rolled a bit, but that was it. So, Seonghwa kicked it again. And again. And again. 

“ _What the hell_ ?” He screamed, kicking at whatever body he happened to be close to. “ _What is wrong with this fucking school?_ ” He continued to kick and stomp on the bodies before pausing to catch his breath and gesturing to the figures in the hallway. “This shit right here? _This_ is why I chose to go to Songreul Academy! Oh, Sehwa Academy is _so_ prestigious, Seonghwa, you’ll be sure to get a great job if you go there! Don’t go to Songreul, go to Sehwa! It’ll give you a step up in life!” He didn’t know who he was yelling at, but it didn’t matter. It was making him feel better. “So far the only thing this damn place has given me is a _fucking headache!_ ” 

Seonghwa reared back to kick again, but froze when he heard something in the stairwell near the end of the hall. At first, he thought it might have been another person and considered calling out to them, but decided against it. He had no idea what was going on but if _he_ had walked in on someone kicking the shit out of a bunch of wax mannequins this late at night, he’d probably just call the cops. As bad as the night had already been, Seonghwa was in no rush to make it any worse, and decided the best thing to do was leave without being seen. He knew there were at least two other stairwells on this floor and made his way toward one. 

Surprisingly, given the way his night had gone up until that point, Seonghwa was able to make it down to the first floor without incident. Unsurprisingly, the doors were locked, and Seonghwa didn’t have the keycard necessary to unlock them. He sighed again, running a hand through his hair. “Now what?” He thought for a moment. The tutors had been told about this on their first day, because some tutors liked to stay late to get extra work done, or provide further assistance for students or professors. Seonghwa himself had stayed late a couple times with Jongho, and those times they’d always had to exit through the… “Underground parking lot!” Seonghwa did a tiny fist pump. He hadn’t picked up a keycard earlier in the evening - he hadn’t intended to stay so late - but he knew where to get them, and that was a start. It felt good to finally be able to answer one of the many, many questions he’d asked himself. If he remembered correctly, the security office was also on the first floor, just a bit further down the hall. Another question he was able to answer.

Quietly, so as not to draw any attention to himself from whomever was still in the school, Seonghwa made his way toward the security office, feeling a little lighter than he had that night. It was nice to know he was only moments away from getting out of the school. That only lasted until he opened the door to the security office and was met with the thick, unmistakable stench of death. 

Given the way the night had gone, Seonghwa was proud of himself for immediately pulling out his phone to call for help. From where he stood, he was able to make out a leg for sure; beyond that was what could have been a slumped person, but it was too dark to tell. Still, the leg (and the smell) was enough to tell him this one wasn’t like the wax bodies he’d seen in the halls. Seonghwa frowned as an automated voice told him the call could not be completed, his stomach dropping as he realized he had no service. That didn’t make any sense, he knew he’d made calls from the school before, but he didn’t waste much time thinking on it. He didn’t want to enter the security office, not with a dead body in there, but he was also painfully aware of the fact that he had heard someone upstairs, someone who could have been responsible for the dead body in front of him. He needed to get out of there as quickly as possible, but the only way to do so was to get a key for the underground parking lot, which meant...he swallowed hard. Seonghwa turned the flashlight on his phone on again and took a few tentative steps into the office, allowing the light to wash over the figure. 

If asked, Seonghwa would have said he couldn’t be surprised anymore that evening. Once the body was illuminated by the flashlight, however, he once more found himself reeling back, doing his best to keep from screaming. Despite the horrible stench, the wounds he could see seemed fresh. However, the body was so grotesquely mutilated, Seonghwa was unable to make out any distinguishable features. He was also unable to keep himself from shaking. The beam from his flashlight bounced around the body as his hands shook, and in doing so, glinted off something on the floor. Seonghwa managed to peel his gaze away from the body and instead did his best to focus on the glinting. Scattered on the floor near the body were a number of cards, one Seonghwa recognized almost instantly as the very key card he had come to retrieve. 

Seonghwa took one deep, cleansing breath before forcing himself to enter the security office once more. He did his best to keep his gaze focused on the key card on the floor, consciously keeping his eyes from darting to the mutilated body near them. It was difficult but he managed it, allowing himself to smile as he picked up the key card. At the last second, his eyes darted to what appeared to be an ID badge. Shocked by the face he saw smiling back at him but not wanting to remain in the room for much longer, Seonghwa grabbed the ID badge as well and all but darted out of the security office, pulling the door shut behind him. The sound echoed down the hallway and Seonghwa held his breath as he listened to see if it called anyone to him. When he heard nothing, he let out the breath he was holding and looked at the ID badge again. 

Kim Hongjoong smiled back at him, looking just as alive and well as he had earlier that evening. But if his ID badge was on the ground near that body...Seonghwa tried to come up with any other explanation, but nothing else made sense. The only logical conclusion was that the body belonged to his friend. Hongjoong was dead. Gone. Murdered. Just like that. The sadness was to be expected. Seonghwa hadn’t known Hongjoong very well, but he still considered him a friend. And he’d done so much for so many people; the students he tutored in music adored him, the professors and other staff adored him...he was a good person, was nice to everyone, and had always been easy to talk to. It was only normal for Seonghwa to be sad.

What caught him off guard, however, was the anger. 

How could someone do something like that to someone as kind as Hongjoong? Sure, there was a good chance he was a member of a dangerous cult, but still. Part of Seonghwa wanted the murderer to be in the building, to find him. He didn’t know what he would do to them, but at least then he’d have a chance to do _something._ As it was, his options were limited. Still, his best bet lay with getting out of the building. If he couldn’t call for help, he’d have to get it in person. He closed his eyes, did his best to center himself, and made his way to the underground parking lot. He was nearing the basement landing when he heard someone moving around in the stairwell above him. He froze, not wanting to draw any attention to himself, but once the individual called out, Seonghwa realized he recognized the voice. 

“Professor Song?” Seonghwa wasn’t sure if he was relieved or alarmed by Professor Song’s presence, but he knew he needed to convince her to leave with him to get help. They’d been lucky not to have encountered the murderer already, but he wasn’t willing to try that luck just to avoid a potential lecture. “I know I shouldn’t be here this late and I’ll explain why I am later but I really think we should--” Seonghwa’s words died out as Professor Song came to a stop just outside of his field of view. The stairwell was dark - the whole building was dark, come to think of it - but like the body in the security office, he was able to make out the faintest details. Details that made Seonghwa draw away slightly. Something about the way Professor Song was standing made him feel uncomfortable. He could feel her staring at him, and that too made his stomach turn slightly. Something was wrong, a fact that was further confirmed when another voice called out from just behind the professor.

“What did you find, my pet?”

_What the fuck?_ Seonghwa took another step back. _My pet? What the fuck?_ The phrase put him on edge, and suddenly Seonghwa wanted nothing more than to run away. 

The second person made a tsk-ing sound, making sure to stay completely out of view. “Another trespasser skulking about our sweet home…” 

_Who talks like that?_

“How about we give him a proper welcome to our lovely university?”

_At this rate I doubt I’ll survive the night_

_He’ll be lucky if he even makes it through the witching hour_

Seonghwa began to back away more quickly, the urge to run growing ever stronger. Suddenly, Professor Song let loose with an inhuman shriek and lurched forward, arms outstretched. Seonghwa had a second to register how unnaturally sharp her nails looked before his body took over and he was running full speed for the parking lot. He slammed into the door, fumbling for a second with the keycard before sliding it through the lock and throwing the door open. He attempted to slam the door shut behind him but Professor Song was closer than he had expected, her outstretched arm preventing the door from closing all the way. Another shriek tore through the night and Seonghwa didn’t wait for her to finish before he was running again, his feet taking him toward what he hoped was an exit. 

He could hear Professor Song behind him, her shrieks and howls growing closer and closer with each passing second, and he thanked the stars he’d been aware enough to keep his distance in the stairwell. Had he been any closer, she’d likely have caught up to him much sooner. It seemed moot, however, when his foot caught on something and he went sprawling, striking the ground with such force it knocked the breath right out of him. Pain shot through his ankle and for a second, he could not make heads or tails of what had happened. 

Then he was crawling, scrambling away as quickly as he could, Professor Song’s howls growing louder at an alarming rate. He screamed at himself to get up, to run, to try to stay ahead of her as long as he possibly could, but his body refused to do anything other than what it already was. What was worse, he could feel himself giving up again, like he had in the hallway. 

_There’s no point, I can’t get away. She’s too fast and I’ve fucked up. I was so fucking close, too, the exit is right there. I can see it, I can see the sunlight--_

Another sound filled Seonghwa’s ears as he realized, almost too slowly, that it wasn’t _sunlight_ he was seeing, but rather _headlights._ The underground parking lot was flooded with light and before he could wrap his mind around what was happening, he was being hauled to his feet and shoved toward some sort of vehicle. 

“Get on!” Someone yelled, and Seonghwa did as he was told, no questions asked. The alternative was...less than ideal. He quickly learned that the vehicle was some sort of motorbike, and he wasted no time getting on and holding on tightly. Professor Song was close, Seonghwa could almost feel her ( _claws_ ) fingers grabbing at his shirt, and then the bike was moving, and her screams quickly fell away. She pursued them as best she could but, thankfully, was simply not fast enough to keep up. Seonghwa chanced a look behind him, but Professor Song was nowhere to be seen. 

The two rode on in silence, Seonghwa not sure what to say and the other seemingly not one for conversation. Eventually the bike came to a stop and, though the driver remained silent, Seonghwa gathered they were meant to part ways. He slowly climbed off the bike, his ankle throbbing slightly as he put pressure on it. It was sore but seemed like it would hold up, which Seonghwa was thankful for. Still, he acted as if it was worse than it was, grabbing onto the bike for balance and using the opportunity to sneak a glance at the other. 

Unfortunately, this yielded no answers. The mysterious individual seemed intent to remain as such, seeing as they were completely covered from head to toe in some sort of white garb. Their face was hidden behind some sort of metallic mask, and when they finally did speak, their voice was too muffled to distinguish. 

“Stay away from Sehwa University,” they said. “Whatever you saw in there, I don’t care. Don’t go back.” They pointed behind Seonghwa. “Get inside, find somewhere safe, and stay there until morning. Hopefully this will all be over then.” 

Seonghwa turned to find the Songreung Police Station towering over them. “But--”

“No,” the other said. “No buts. Tell me you understand.” 

“Who are you?” 

“ _Tell me you understand._ ”

“Fine, I understand. I’m not exactly chomping at the bit to go back there, but what the hell is going on? What was wrong with Professor Song?”

“That wasn’t Professor Song. And you’re not safe out here. I’ll do what I can to lead it away but you need to get inside. Now.” 

Seonghwa wanted to ask more questions, but the other must have decided their conversation was over, because they were gone in an instant. He watched them go for a while, before sighing and once more turning to the police station. He stared at the large building for a moment before shrugging and heading for the entrance. 

At the very least, he’d be able to report the body he’d found and finally call it a night. He’d worry about everything else in the morning.


	3. Blood Is Thicker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning - there's brief mentions of claustrophobia and aeroacrophobia (kind of), as well as mentions of panic/panicking.

_11.17_

_Everything that’s ever gone wrong in my life can be traced back to that asshole Myung-gil. He’s the reason I got in trouble so much, the reason I got transferred out of Professor Jeong’s class, and the reason that old fart Mad Dog saddled Jongho and I with storage room cleaning duty._

_He’s the reason I found that fucking rosewood recorder to begin with._

_And, of course, he’s the reason I ended up lying to Professor Noh about wanting music lessons. For the recorder. I didn’t even know if that was a legitimate instrument; everyone else who studied under her played violin or piano, or they were learning how to compose. I thought I was going to look like an idiot but...Professor Noh didn’t think that at all. And neither did Hongjoong-hyung._

_I’d lucked out, having him assigned to me. He’d just started working with Professor Noh when I signed up for lessons, and she saw the recorder as a bit of a challenge for both of us. One he seemed happy to tackle. More so, even, when we opened the old case and found some old sheet music tucked beneath the velvet compartment holding the recorder parts. He was so excited, because the difficulty of the pieces ranged from easy to more advanced, which meant I could start learning right away, rather than needing to wait for him to track something down._

_I was still reluctant at first, but Hongjoong-hyung’s excitement was infectious and after a few months, the music lessons had grown on me. I’d become quite proficient with the recorder in that time, and I’d come to like it a great deal. I’d even begun practicing at home, which sped up my progress and had the added benefit of keeping my parents off my back about my grades. My dad especially seemed thrilled that I’d taken up music, and even went as far as offering to pay for additional lessons if I’d wanted them. I did, in part because Hongjoong-hyung said he’d never seen such quick progress, and I don’t know...it felt good to have people be proud of me for once. I’d been looked at as a disappointment for so long, I’d almost forgotten what praise sounded like._

_There was also a piece I couldn’t nail. I’d worked my way through all the other sheet music we’d found in the case, could play them from memory, but there was one piece in particular that continued to give me trouble. Hongjoong-hyung set it as a milestone challenge for me and I happily accepted. I began to stay later to get extra practice in and took additional lessons every other saturday. I was always the last one out but I didn’t care, I almost had the piece down. I was so close, I could feel it._

_But, of course, I couldn’t be allowed happiness for long. Hongjoong-hyung informed me after one lesson that Mad Dog had spoken with him about my grades and they decided that we should probably take a break from music lessons so I could focus on my assignments. I wasn’t happy about it and told him as much, but because Hongjoong-hyung was just a tutor and not an actual professor, his hands were tied._

_Great._

_I stayed late at the school one night to finish some overdue homework. I had taken the recorder out and left it on the desk while I worked, in hopes that I could squeeze in a bit of practice before having to go home. At some point, I must have dozed off because when I woke up later, the school was dark and everyone had left the building. To make matters worse, my phone was dead and someone locked the doors. I considered climbing out a window but when I looked outside, all I could see was a creepy, black void._

_That’s when I started to panic._

_If it weren’t for Yeosang showing up when he did, I probably would have completely lost it. He didn’t say much, just grabbed my hand and led me through the school’s dark halls. It was odd, he seemed familiar but I was pretty sure that was the first time we met. He led me to the storage room first, to a weird old book. He made me sign it before leading me back to one of the classrooms where we just...talked. And talked. And talked. Yeosang had a lot of questions, and I don’t know what it was, but I was happy to answer them. I think it was because he just felt so...comfortable. He didn’t look at me like I was a disappointment, he didn’t seem annoyed by me or anything like that. He was just genuinely curious about me, my classes, Sehwa, etc. It was nice to talk to someone who saw me as an equal. He reminded me a lot of Hongjoong-hyung, actually. Maybe that’s why I let my guard down, why I decided to trust him._

_We talked until the sun rose, until someone came and opened up the school. Yeosang thanked me for my time and left, and even though I tried to follow him I lost track of him pretty quickly._

_That wasn’t the last time I saw him. I began to fall asleep at school a lot, and always when I woke up he’d be there waiting for me, new questions ready to go. I began to look forward to these odd hangouts, was almost planning my days around them. Time didn’t exist with Yeosang. Neither did bad grades, bullies, disappointed parents, or any of the other millions of failures that defined my life. The only thing that mattered was the comfort we seemed to find in each other. And maybe it was just me, but I swear, the more time I spent with Yeosang, the less creepy and endless that void outside the window seemed. I could even see stars in the sky. Not a lot, but some. Yeosang could see them, too, and he lit up every time he saw them. Call it cliche, but I lived for these moments._

_But all good things end, and this was no exception. I’ll never forget the first day I woke up to an empty room. I wasn’t really sure what to do, I’d never wandered the school without him, and I wasn’t about to start. I’d decided to get some practice in while I waited, but I played for hours and there was no sign of Yeosang._

_And then he arrived. The man in the black fedora._

_He took my hand, much as Yeosang had, and led me through the halls of the school, all the while asking questions about the recorder. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on why. I was so caught up in trying to figure that out that I almost forgot how weird the whole situation was. He had questions, like Yeosang had, but his were....odd. They seemed more invasive, somehow, more sinister. At one point, he asked if I wanted to see something neat. Reluctantly, I said yes. I wish I hadn’t._

_He could do things I didn’t think any human could do and he said he would teach me how to do them, too, but for a price. When I told him I didn’t have any money, he said that was fine, that he was willing to accept the rosewood recorder as payment. He smiled at me then, and the way his teeth looked in the darkness...something didn’t feel right. I told him I’d need more time to consider it, and when the sun finally rose, I ran straight home. I never wanted to see that place or that man ever again._

_But I couldn’t stop thinking about the things he’d shown me, couldn’t stop daydreaming about what I’d do with abilities like his. Maybe I could finally get Myung-gil out of my hair. I didn’t want to go back, but part of me knew I had to, if only to warn Yeosang about the man in the black fedora and what he was capable of._

_How sharp his teeth were._

_There was a chance I’d run into the man again, so I decided to do some research. I was fairly certain I remembered what box I’d pulled the recorder out of and, upon returning to the storage room, I found an old book at the bottom of said box called the Codex Illuminus. According to it, I had stumbled into some sort of shadow realm called The Coma, and the man in the black fedora was the “shade” of Sehwa University. It didn’t say anything about Yeosang, but it did mention my rosewood recorder. It was a relic, and was what allowed me to travel to and from The Coma. And if the Codex Illuminus was telling the truth? Then my relic could not only allow me to come and go as I pleased, but it would also allow me to control the shade._

_I swear, I only wanted to make him leave the school. I couldn’t stop thinking about how horribly sharp his teeth had looked, how I met him the one night Yeosang didn’t show up...I swear I was only trying to protect my friend. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. If only I’d been able to master that final piece._

_I’m sorry._

_I’m scared._

_I don’t know what else to do. I wish I could tell him that. I wish he would listen. I know if he did, he’d understand. He always understands._

_\- WY_

* * *

_Songreul looks different this late at night._

It was a mundane thought, one that lent little to no help to Seonghwa’s current predicament, but after what he’d been through he was thankful for it just the same. Everything went by so quickly as it was happening - the body, the stranger, Professor Song attacking him, the man in white saving him - and he was certain adrenaline was mostly to blame for that. Or maybe it really did just happen that quickly. Either way, he hadn’t fully processed everything and he was certain that once he had, he’d likely suffer a full breakdown. It was unavoidable, it was going to happen eventually, but given the choice Seonghwa’d prefer it to happen in his bedroom, not in the parking lot of the Songreul police station. 

Mundane, unhelpful thoughts it was. 

Seonghwa stretched his legs a bit as he walked toward the building. He wondered what time it was, what he should have for dinner, _if_ he should have dinner or just go to bed, etc. Anything to keep his mind off of what happened. As he got closer to the front of the building, however, something caught his attention. Someone was standing just outside the front doors. Their back was to Seonghwa, but something about the way the person was standing made him believe they weren’t like Professor Song. Whoever it was probably had fingernails that were a normal length. 

Still, Seonghwa approached with caution. Not having claws was one thing, being harmless was another. He must have made some sort of noise, however, because the individual turned with a start and, for a moment, Seonghwa was certain they were going to attack him. Recognition flashed across the other’s face, however, and they relaxed almost immediately. 

“You scared me.” 

“Wooyoung?” Seonghwa stared at the student, confused. “What are you doing here?” 

“I...are you ok?” 

“What?”

Wooyoung gestured to Seonghwa. “You look like you’ve been in a fight, is everything alright?” 

Seonghwa looked down and noticed for the first time how dirty his shirt looked. _Probably from the fall I took in the parking lot,_ he thought. He hadn’t considered the fact that he might look as bad as he felt. “Um...it’s been a night.” 

“Did you come from the university?” When Seonghwa didn’t answer, Wooyoung pointed at the police station. “That’s why I’m here. I was leaving for the night and heard screams.” He frowned. “It sounded like someone was hurt...was that you?” 

“Maybe?” Seonghwa _had_ screamed, that much was true. But he hadn’t seen Wooyoung in the school at all, so could it have been him he heard? Or maybe… “Someone was hurt. There was...someone was murdered.” 

Wooyoung laughed. “What?”

“I’m serious. I found a body and…” Seonghwa dug in his pocket for the ID badge. “I found this next to it?” 

Wooyoung was still smiling as he leaned forward to examine the ID badge, clearly not believing Seonghwa’s story. His smile faltered, however, once he realized whose ID badge it was. “Hongjoong-hyung?” 

Seonghwa nodded. “Yeah. I think...I know it sounds crazy but I think Professor Song had something to do with it.” 

“That does sound crazy,” Wooyoung scoffed. “Professor Song wouldn’t hurt a fly. And Hongjoong-hyung left early tonight, I saw him leave myself. Why would he have gone back?” 

Hongjoong had left early? That was news to Seonghwa. He wanted to believe Wooyoung was right, but there was still the matter of the ID. “Why would someone else have his ID badge?” 

“Maybe someone found it and they were trying to return it.” 

Seonghwa considered this. The body _had_ been in the security office, which is exactly where he’d go to turn in an item someone had lost. He regarded Wooyoung for a moment, not missing the fact that Seonghwa should have been the one trying to calm him but it had, in fact, been the other way around. He chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head. “Maybe you’re right.”

“You look tired, hyung,” Wooyoung said, his voice gentle. “We should head inside. You can make your report and maybe they’ll finally believe _mine,_ too.” 

“What?”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Like I said, I heard screams as I was leaving so I came here to report it. But no one was listening to me, they kept looking at me like I was pulling a prank or something. I’m sure if they hear your story, though, they’ll be more inclined to believe mine.” 

Seonghwa frowned. Sure, Wooyoung got into a bit of trouble at the university but was that really any reason to disregard him entirely? Especially when what he was reporting was someone in potential danger? He squared his shoulders and walked past Wooyoung, stepping quick and with purpose. Seonghwa pulled open the door and stepped inside, ready to give the first person he saw a piece of his mind, but was stopped dead in his tracks.

The lobby was in much the same state as the university had been. Vines grew through the walls, there was some strange liquid leaking from the ceiling and pooling on the floors, and the whole place was impossibly dark. What was more, he couldn’t see anyone anywhere; no receptionists manning the front desk, no officers mulling about or filling out reports, not even a janitor sweeping here or there. There was no one. The place looked completely deserted. “There’s no one he--”

Seonghwa let out a small yelp as the lobby doors slammed shut behind him. He spun around, expecting to see a frightened Wooyoung behind him but, when he saw only an empty lobby, he knew exactly what had happened. He suddenly recalled what had happened right before he passed out, how Wooyoung had stolen the amulet and fled, leaving him there to fend for himself. 

“Wooyoung!” Seonghwa shoved on the door, but it wouldn’t budge. He didn’t know what Wooyoung had done, but the door was sealed. “Open the door, now!”

“Just make yourself comfortable in there, hyung! Get some rest!” 

“Let me _out,_ Wooyoung!” 

When Wooyoung next spoke, his voice was low. Cautious, almost. “Trust me, this is for your own good.” 

Seonghwa pounded on the door. “Look, don’t do this. I don’t entirely know what’s going on but just...open the door, ok? You’re probably in over your head and scared, but I can help! You have to let me out though!” He pounded on the door again, waiting for a reply, but none came. “Wooyoung, please. Don’t try to solve this on your own!” No response. 

Wooyoung was gone. 

Seonghwa dropped his arms to his sides, pressed his back against the door, and slid to the floor. How had he managed to spend majority of his night trying to get out of one mostly abandoned building just to get trapped in another? Was that how the entire night was going to go? If he somehow managed to get out of the police station, would he just get trapped somewhere else? Pulling his knees into his chest, Seonghwa took a moment to survey the vacant room before him. He hadn’t the faintest idea where to start looking for another exit, and the lobby wasn’t exactly providing him with a plethora of clues. Everything was either abandoned, destroyed by vines or ‘water’ damage, or boarded up. And the room was so dark, the only thing he could _really_ see were the tiny red lights on the security cameras. 

He paused to think before focusing on one of the little red lights. _The red light means...on, right?_ Seonghwa carefully got to his feet, keeping his eyes trained on the small light. _It does. It means the cameras are on. Is someone...watching me?_ Slowly, he raised a hand up and gave the camera a small wave. He wasn’t sure what he expected the camera to do, but when nothing happened he dropped his arm with a sigh. The cameras might be on, but that didn’t mean someone was operating them. They could have just been left on when...whatever happened, happened. It did, however, mean the building still had power. He just needed to find out how to get the lights on, and he could go from there. 

The cameras were operational, so Seonghwa figured the best place to start was the security office. At the very least, he’d be able to check the cameras to see if anyone was lurking in the building. _Assuming_ he was alone was likely not a good idea; it’d be better to try to confirm it. Switching on his flashlight, he began to scan the walls for some sort of map that would tell him where to find the security office. After a bit of searching, he managed to locate one on the wall near one of the bathrooms, partly obscured by lumber and tools. According to the map, the security office was located in the lobby, a few doors down from the reception desk. _Good,_ he thought, turning and directing his light further into the lobby. _I’m about done with stairs._

Making his way deeper into the lobby, Seonghwa let his thoughts wander back to his conversation with Wooyoung. Had Hongjoong really left early? Seonghwa didn’t remember him doing so, but he was also swamped with students, and had been too invested in his emails near the end of the night to pay attention to anyone leaving. Though...he did remember Yunho leaving, because the other had made an effort to say goodnight. And Hongjoong and Yunho were meeting later that evening, weren’t they? Isn’t that what they were talking about? If that was the case, why would Hongjoong leave so much earlier than Yunho? Had he actually left and come back? For that matter, had Yunho? Seonghwa was sure one of the voices he’d heard earlier had been Yunho’s, but now that he knew that the other had gone home for the night…

_There’s really no telling_ what _actually happened,_ he thought, giving his head a small shake. _Sure, it seems odd for either of them to have left and returned to the school, but their names_ were _in that book, and honestly nothing tonight has been even remotely normal. There’s really no telli--_

The sound of glass breaking rang throughout the building, echoing off the walls and making it difficult for Seonghwa to tell where the sound had come from. If he had to venture a guess, he’d say upstairs. None of it mattered, however, as another sound echoed throughout the halls, loud and growing louder still.

Heels, clicking against the tile as someone approached. The steps were heavy and made Seonghwa’s stomach turn. He knew who those steps belonged to, knew that they were there, looking for him. He hurried through the lobby, trying to make as little sound as possible while checking each of the doors he passed. Finally, he came upon the security office but, to his horror, the door bore a keycard lock. Seonghwa stared at it, his blood growing colder as the footsteps grew louder. Without much hope, he tried the handle, suppressing the urge to groan when it didn’t give at all. 

Why hadn’t he checked the rest of the map? Why hadn’t he taken a little more time to familiarize himself with the building? He had no idea where to look for a keycard and what was worse, the footsteps were too close for him to go back the way he’d come. If they hadn’t started on the ground floor, they’d definitely made it there and it was only a matter of time before they found him. He could run deeper into the lobby, hope that he found a stairwell but if not? He’d be trapped. Not that he was doing much better standing outside the security office but...were those really his only choices? After everything, it was either die where he stood, or die a few feet away from where he stood? 

Literally all he’d wanted to do was help a few students who were struggling with their course load. That was it. He didn’t even care about the money that much so why was all of this happening to him? Why couldn’t he just _go home_ already? At a loss for what to do, Seonghwa began to shake the door handle and whisper tiny pleas to anyone who would listen. “Please...I don’t know what to do...if anyone can hear me I need help... _please._ ”

Seonghwa heard the steps come to a halt. He turned to look at the thing that looked like Professor Song, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. The thing that looked like Professor Song stared back with eyes that shone red, not unlike the lights on the cameras. It was the only feature he could really make out. Seonghwa slumped forward, putting all his weight on the door, his gaze never leaving the thing that looked like Professor Song. “Please…” he said, giving the handle another shake. “ _Please,_ ” he said, as the thing that looked like Professor Song threw its head back and screamed. _“Please, please, please!”_

The thing that looked like Professor Song lunged forward, arms outstretched. Seonghwa closed his eyes, not sure if his constant pleas were being said aloud or in his mind. He could hear her approaching, could hear her rapid footsteps and inhuman shrieks as she barrelled toward him. He could hear the door handle rattling in his grasp as he desperately tried to will it to unlock, as he begged and pleaded for someone - _anyone_ \- to hear him and open the door. And then, just as the shrieks were at their loudest, in the moment just before he was sure he would die, Seonghwa felt the door disappear. He felt weightless as his body pitched forward into darkness, as someone grabbed his shirt and yanked him forward still. And just like that, he was on the floor, the creature’s screams and shrieks muffled behind the heavy door of the security office. 

Seonghwa turned toward the door in time to see someone slide to the floor in a heap. He crawled toward them, attempting to help them sit up while also attempting to reorient himself. “Hey, are you ok?” 

The stranger looked up at him, seemingly exasperated. Their breathing was ragged, and when they spoke, it was between gasps for breath. “Do...I look...ok...to...y-you?” Seonghwa successfully managed to get the other into a seated position and, upon pushing their hair out of their face, promptly froze. 

“I know you,” he said. “I know you!” 

The other winced at the volume of Seonghwa’s voice. “Keep...it….down...it’s...still…” Their words trailed off as they began to cough, but Seonghwa got the gist. The thing that looked like Professor Song was still out there. Its screams had quieted, but he could still hear it scratching at the door, trying to find a way in. 

“Sorry,” Seonghwa said, lowering his voice. “But I do know you, you came to visit Jongho in the hospital.” 

“Yes,” the other said. “I’m...aware.” 

Seonghwa frowned. “You said you were his friend. You lied.” 

The look the other gave him then made Seonghwa pull back a bit. “I...did _not..._ lie.” 

“You said you were enrolled at Sehwa, that you had math with him.” 

There was a pause. “I may have...lied...a bit.” He smiled at that, though it quickly faded as he began coughing again. 

Seonghwa gave him a once over. In addition to the labored breathing, the other looked very pale and seemed to be bleeding from his left shoulder. Seonghwa began to dig in his bag for anything he could use to apply pressure to the wound. “What happened to you?” 

“I’m...fine…” he said. “Just...need some...water…” 

Seonghwa found a bottle in his bag, uncapped it, and handed it over before continuing his search for something to stop the bleeding. The other took it gratefully. They sat in silence, Seonghwa pulling various items from his bag as Jongho’s friend polished off the water bottle. 

“So,” he said after a while, watching as Seonghwa triumphantly pulled a scarf out of the bag. “You made it out of the university.” 

Seonghwa snorted. “Yup. And then immediately got locked in here.” He folded the scarf up carefully and pressed it firmly against the wounded shoulder. The boy hissed, but that was it. “How’d you know I came from Sehwa?” Seonghwa thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers. “Wait, you must be YS!” 

The other nodded. “Yeosang,” he added. 

“Seonghwa.” He gestured to Yeosang’s shoulder. “What happened here?” 

“Some little asshole got the drop on me,” Yeosang said, his voice surprisingly bitter. 

“Well, this looks pretty bad. Once that thing moves on, we should try to get you some help.” 

“No,” Yeosang started. 

“You need medical attention,” Seonghwa said, moving his attention to the screens on the far end of the room. “The door’s boarded up but there’s got to be another way out of here.” 

“No,” Yeosang said again. “I...ok. Remember when I said I was a student at Sehwa, and that was a lie?”

“Yes?”

“And remember how I said I took a math course with Jongho, and _that_ was a lie?” 

“Yeah…?” 

“Ok so...remember when I said I was fine?” 

Seonghwa glared at the other. “Yeah.”

“Guess what.” 

“You’re not funny.”

“I am not trying to be.” Seonghwa gave Yeosang a look, and the other shrugged. “Ok, fine, I am trying to be. A little. Give me a break, I’m dying.” 

Seonghwa gasped at that. “What?” 

Yeosang waved him off. “It’s fine. That brat just poisoned me.” 

“Are you fine or are you not fine?” Seonghwa asked. “Because you’re not really being clear about that.” He sighed. “Regardless, I’m definitely taking you to get help.” 

“You can’t,” Yeosang said. “I can’t move, that’s what makes the poison spread.” 

Seonghwa stared at him for a moment, then at the door, then back at Yeosang. “Then how did you open the door?” When the other didn’t answer, Seonghwa asked again. And again. And again. And--

“He just,” Yeosang snapped, “he speaks so highly of you, I couldn’t just let you die!” 

“...who?” 

Yeosang gave his head a small shake. “No one. Look. By now I’m sure you’re aware that this place isn’t your world.”

Seonghwa laughed nervously. “What are you talking about?”

“Just...hear me out, ok?” Yeosang took a deep breath. “This realm, it’s called The Coma. It’s like...a shadow of the waking world. In fact, that’s exactly what it is. Everything here is a shadow of your world. Everything.” 

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?” 

“Do you want to survive tonight or not? Because if you do, I can make that happen. I just...I need you to listen to me. And I need your help.”

“Five minutes ago you were refusing my help,” Seonghwa said. “What changed?”

“I said you couldn’t take me anywhere to get help. But this poison, there’s an antidote. I need you to get it for me. If you can do that, I can get us out of here.” 

Seonghwa considered this, then nodded. “What do you need me to do?”

“You know the nearby Dokkaebi Market?” 

“Yeah?” 

“There’s an apothecary who has a shop there. Ask him to make me some plasmatonic.” 

Seonghwa made a face. “Plasmatonic?” 

“I know. It’s not medicine from your world. That’s fine, the apothecary will know what it is. All you need to do is remember to ask for it.” Yeosang pointed to a satchel over by the far wall. “There’s some hellion in my bag, it should be enough to cover it.” 

Seonghwa crossed the room and began rummaging through the bag. “What does it look like? The hellion, I mean.” 

“...money?” The two exchanged a look. “It’s round. Gold-ish. It should be--”

Seonghwa pulled something from the bag triumphantly. “Got it!” He held the strange coins out for Yeosang to inspect. “These, right?” 

Yeosang nodded. “That’s it. Don’t lose it, that’s the only currency that’s worth a damn in here. No hellion, no plasmatonic.”

Seonghwa nodded and placed the coins in his pocket. He looked back toward the door; through it, they could hear the muffled sounds of Not Professor Song’s heels tapping on the tiles as she paced outside the door. Seonghwa hoped she moved on soon. He didn’t really know how much damage Yeosang had done to himself by opening the door but by the looks of him, Seonghwa’d guess he didn’t have a lot of time to spare. 

“Dokkaebi Market. Plasmatonic.” He nodded. “So the only real issue is...how do I get out of here?” 

Yeosang raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” 

“Like I said earlier, the front door is blocked, sealed off...something. A student from the local university locked me in.” They shared a look then, and Seonghwa was sure; the same person that locked him in had attacked Yeosang. He and Wooyoung were going to have a long talk when this was all over. 

“Well,” Yeosang said, pointing toward the monitors. “Help me over there and I think I can get you out.” 

“Moving you could kill you.” 

“Maybe, maybe not.” Yeosang began to attempt to stand on his own, but Seonghwa stopped him. “There’s a back gate, that leads to the parking area. If you can get down there, I can monitor your progress with the cams and buzz you out once you reach it.” 

Seonghwa still looked unsure, but he helped Yeosang over to the screens nonetheless, almost dropping him into the chair near the desk. Yeosang propped himself up on the desk, his eyes scanning quickly over the screens in front of him. 

When he found the screen he was looking for, he brought Seonghwa’s attention to it. “There, see? That’s the gate. Once I see you there, I’ll open it.” Pointing back at the bag, Yeosang fixed Seonghwa with the most serious look he had all night. “I have a taser in my bag, and a phone. Take them. Ideally, you can make it to the back gate without running into any problems but realistically, you’ll probably run into _it_. Do everything you can to stay alive, ok?” 

Seonghwa nodded as he dug through the bag, pulling out the items and showing them to Yeosang, who nodded. He placed the taser in his bag immediately, but the phone he held onto. It was an older phone, far older than Seonghwa’s own. He turned to Yeosang, the phone outstretched. “Are you sure about this? I have my own phone, you know, I can just give you the number.” 

“Had a lot of service on it since you got here?”

“Oh...right…” He pulled his phone out and sure enough, he had no service. “But this thing works?”

“Yeah. Not sure why, but it’s helped us keep in touch.” 

Seonghwa frowned. “Who’s us?” 

Yeosang seemed to miss the question. “My number’s in it so if you need anything, give me a call. I probably won’t be able to help much because...well…” he gestured to his shoulder. “But I can answer questions, and I know a lot about The Coma.” 

Seonghwa pocketed the phone. “I think you should try to get as much rest as possible. I’ll be back before you know it with your plasma...tonic.” 

Yeosang grinned. “Look at you.” 

“Lose the attitude,” Seonghwa said, but his tone was light. For someone who was dying, Yeosang seemed to be in a pretty decent mood. Seonghwa wondered how many times the other had been on death’s doorstep; had frequency made him this flippant, or did he just not care whether he lived or died? He supposed ultimately, it didn’t matter, because he was going to make sure Yeosang lived. He crossed the room to the door, pressing his ear against the wood and listening as closely as possible. “I think she’s moved on,” he said after a while.

“Yeah,” Yeosang said. “I’ve got it on cams...looks like it’s on the second floor. It’s fast though, so you’ll have to move quietly.” He gave Seonghwa a reassuring smile. “Fast but not all that bright. If you hear it, find a place to hide and stay quiet. You’ll be fine, tutor.” 

Seonghwa made sure he had everything one final time before taking a deep breath. “How do I get downstairs?” 

“One of the stairwells on this floor leads down to the cells, I think it’s the one nearest the front doors but I’m not entirely sure.”

“Good enough place as any to start.” Seonghwa took a moment to listen at the door again and, once he was confident the coast was clear, pulled it open and stepped once more into the darkness of the lobby. He eased the door shut behind him, making sure the latch caught but doing his best to keep quiet, before slowly heading back toward the front door. If he was remembering correctly, Yeosang was right about the stairwell near the doors leading down to the basement but, even if he was incorrect, that was also where the building map was. If he’d been wrong, Seonghwa could just check the map. He kept his flashlight off and listened closely for Not Professor Song while also taking note of anything that could be a potential hiding spot. He didn’t want to always have to rely on the kindness (and timing) of others to survive the night. 

Seonghwa reached the stairwell without issue however, when he turned his phone light on briefly to verify that the stairwell led downstairs, he was met with another problem entirely. Thick, dark vines grew out of the walls and over each other, criss-crossing and weaving so tightly that Seonghwa could only see about three steps down, even with the light on. Everything else was overgrown. He looked around to see if there was any sort of gap in the vines he could crawl through but, unfortunately, no such space existed. He sighed in frustration, clicking the light off and stepping back into the lobby. “When I said I was done with stairs,” he mumbled, running his hand over his face. “I didn’t mean _forever._ ” He thought for a moment, before making his way to the map on the wall. Clicking on the flashlight again, he scanned the layout, frowning as he confirmed that the nearest stairwell was the _only one_ that led downstairs. 

As if summoned by the mere thought of the stairs, Seonghwa heard Not Professor Song start making her way down the steps, her heels echoing in the stairwell. He clicked off the flashlight quickly and all but dove into the nearest bathroom, once more easing the door shut behind him and pressing his back against it. He held his breath as the footsteps got louder, paused, and then began to move away from him. He waited until he could barely hear them before he let his breath out in a woosh and pulled out the small phone Yeosang had given him. 

Yeosang answered almost immediately. “Need help already?” He sounded worried, no doubt because he’d seen Not Professor Song make her way into the lobby. 

“The stairwell’s blocked,” Seonghwa whispered. “And according to the map there’s no other way downstairs. We need a new plan...is there another way out, maybe?”

Yeosang was quiet for a moment. “Not that I can see. If you can’t get downstairs then...then the front door is your only option.” 

“I can try that,” Seonghwa whispered, moving further into the bathroom. The room felt cold, colder than it should. “But it’ll be noisy and if it’s blocked, it’s blocked. I couldn’t even make the door budge earlier and believe me, I tried.”

Something across the room moved, causing Seonghwa to freeze. Yeosang’s voice drifted through the phone, asking a couple questions, then inquiring as to whether or not Seonghwa was even listening. Seonghwa wasn’t sure how to signal to Yeosang that he _was_ listening, without alerting the other presence in the room. He wasn’t sure if the presence was malevolent or not, but he didn’t really want to find out. 

“Tutor? Is...is everything alright? Are you hurt? Are you--”

“ _Shh!_ ”

“Who the hell are you?” 

So much for not alerting the presence. Still, Seonghwa was surprised. He’d half expected the thing to shriek at him, or growl, or yell, or whatever other sounds Not Professor Song had made before lunging at him. But no, the voice that spoke to him was fairly...normal. It wasn’t even a little distorted sounding, like the other voice in the stairwell back at Sehwa. It was like there was just...another person in there with him. The only thing that really gave him pause was how dark it was...why had they just been sitting in the dark? “Yeo--” he paused. 

_Guard your name._

Seonghwa wasn’t sure what that meant, or who had said it to him, but he bit back the rest of Yeosang’s name. “Um...was there anyone else in here with you?” 

“In...the police station?” 

“Yeah.” 

The other presence shifted. “I asked you a question,” it said. It sounded annoyed, and Seonghwa took a step back. 

“There was no one here until you got here. And of course…” Not Professor Song’s footsteps began to echo in the hall again, as if to finish Yeosang’s statement. “Why?”

“There’s someone here.”

“Where?” 

“Bathroom. First floor.” 

“Stay away from it.” 

“Yeah, I figured.” 

“Who. The hell. Are you _?_ ”

“Who the hell are _you_?” Seonghwa squared his shoulders and stood as tall as he could.

“Excuse me?” The presence was finally close enough that Seonghwa could see them clearly and, judging by his uniform…

Seonghwa swallowed hard. “What’s an officer doing lurking in the bathroom in the dark?” He hoped his tone sounded authoritative and firm. 

“Answer my question first.” 

Seonghwa chuckled. “You must be new. I’m a detective working undercover at Sehwa University.” _What the hell?_ It was like his mouth was moving on its own, before his brain could even register what he was about to say. “Students and staff have been falling seriously ill but no one knows why and we haven’t been able to find any leads so they’ve got me posing as a tutor, see if I can get anything from the students or professors.” He heard Yeosang whisper _holy shit_ through the phone, but for the most part Seonghwa was focused on the other officer. 

“Oh I…” the officer seemed to relax. “I didn’t realize the Sehwa case was that serious.”

“Uh huh,” Seonghwa said, doing his best to sound nonchalant but also in charge. “It’s about to get even more serious than that. We found a body.” He held the phone away from his ear a bit and gave it a shake before placing it back. “Was actually just calling it in. Thought I was the only one here.” He narrowed his gaze. “So...again, what are you doing here?”

The office dropped his gaze and lowered his voice. “Um...it’s a little embarrassing but...I misplaced my badge. I thought maybe I dropped it in here so I was looking for it when I found...maybe you should just come look.” 

“Be careful,” Yeosang whispered. Seonghwa nodded, not once registering that Yeosang wouldn’t be able to see the gesture. 

The officer led him to the far end of the bathroom, to the last toilet stall. The door was missing, as was everything else. Where the toilet should have been was a large hole; a ladder protruded from the hollow and descended into the darkness, disappearing about a meter down. Seonghwa pulled out his other phone and clicked the light on in an attempt to see the bottom of the pit, but he was only able to illuminate a little more than he could already see. Still, the ladder couldn’t be _that_ tall. “Yeo, do you have any cams downstairs?”

The sound of typing drifted through the phone. “Yeah, it looks like there are four.” 

“Do you see a ladder in any of them?” 

More clicking and typing. “Yeah.” 

“Metal? Looks like it’s leading up to this floor?” 

“Yeah. You find the other end of it?” 

“Pretty sure.”

“Solves that, I guess.” 

“Yup. I’m gonna head down, I’ll call you if I need anything else.”

“I’ll be here.” 

Seonghwa hung up and placed both phones back into his pocket before turning to the officer. “Looks like this leads to the lower levels.”

The officer frowned. “That’s where the cells are. I heard a few officers talking about a jailbreak earlier. Maybe...and you said you found a body at Sehwa?” Seonghwa nodded. “I don’t like this. Be careful down there.” 

Seonghwa nodded again. He stared down the hole, a cold feeling settling in his chest. He found himself once more mulling over just how unbelievable that night had been and, by the looks of it, it was only going to get weirder. He turned back to the officer but was surprised to find the room completely empty. A cold breeze blew up from the hole and Seonghwa sighed. “I’m so ready for this night to be over.” 

Slowly, so as not to fall, Seonghwa began to descend the ladder. The further down he got, the darker it got, the tighter he gripped the ladder. There was a moment, when the darkness completely consumed him, when he found he couldn’t move anymore. The darkness pressed on him, seeming both vast and suffocating at the same time. There was too much uncertainty; he didn’t know how deep the hole was, how long he’d have to climb down or even how long he’d already been climbing. He wanted to pull the flashlight out, to try and see anything, but he was too scared to let go of the ladder. He felt as if letting go would set him aimlessly adrift in the vast darkness and if that happened, that’s where he’d be for all eternity. Alternatively, staying where he was made him feel as if the darkness was pressing down on him, like he was wedged into a too small tunnel and found himself stuck. Seonghwa wanted to scream, wanted to climb back out of the hole and just wait in the bathroom until morning but…

“Dokkaebi Market,” he said, his voice shaking. “Plasmatonic.” Yeosang was waiting for him, was probably wondering why he hadn’t emerged from the hole yet. And more than that, Yeosang was _relying_ on him. If Seonghwa didn’t return with the plasmatonic soon...he gave his head a shake and continued his descent. To his relief, his foot struck the floor not long after. Shortly after that, the small phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out and pressed it to his ear, hoping he didn’t sound as shaken as he felt. “Hello?”

“You alright?” Yeosang sounded worried. “You were in there for a long time. I’ve been trying to call you for like, ten minutes.” 

_What?_ “Yeah. I...I’m fine. Just got in my head a bit.”

“It was dark in there, wasn’t it?” 

“Yeah, and I just--”

“You just nothing. The darkness here...it’s weird. It’ll do that to you, make you feel like being surrounded by it is the end of the world. I should have warned you about that.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. But listen...the fact that you got yourself out of it? That’s impressive. You’re stronger than this place wants you to think you are, don’t forget that.” Seonghwa could hear Yeosang typing. “You should be right by one of the jail cells; there was some sort of commotion here earlier today. The cells are open, so if you can get into one of them it should let you out onto the general floor. From there, you should be able to make your way to the parking area.” 

“Ok.” Seonghwa clicked his light on and scanned the room. “There’s a hole in the wall here, I think I can see a cell on the other side. I’m gonna head through, I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

“Sounds good.”

“And Yeosang? Thank you.” 

Yeosang was quiet for a moment. “Yeah. Hurry up and stay quiet. I lost sight of it a little while ago so be on your guard.” 

Seonghwa smiled despite himself as the connection died. He pocketed the phone and made his way to the hole in the wall, pushing his bag through before crawling through himself. The cell he crawled into was fairly plain. A cot, a sink, a toilet...Seonghwa did his best to not look at the giant stain on the wall that he knew in his gut was blood. He decided that, for the time being, the best option was to make his way to the parking area without the use of the flashlight, for as long as possible. As far as he knew, there wasn’t a way for Not Professor Song to make it to the lower levels but he didn’t want to take any chances. 

As Seonghwa left the cell and entered the hallway, his stomach flipped. The hallway was long and though there was a bit of dim, yellow light from a single lamp that hung from the ceiling, the end of it was obscured by darkness. Cell doors lined the walls and the ones that he could see stood open. His eyes betrayed him and darted from door to door, taking note of an arm here, a dark puddle there. The walls themselves were covered in dark stains and long, deep gouges that looked like claw marks. The officer he’d encountered said there’d been a jail break earlier in the evening but, as Seonghwa took in the scene before him, he wondered if any of the prisoners actually made it out. His eyes darted back to the cell he’d come out of, his mind wandering to the room on the other side of the hole, to the ladder that led up to the lobby, to the heavy, locked door of the security office. Where it was safe. Where he could hide until morning.

_Dokkaebi Market. Plasmatonic. Yeosang’s relying on you._ Seonghwa gave his head another shake and forced his feet to move, carrying him deeper into the hallway. He didn’t know how long he walked for, but it didn’t matter. He kept moving, repeating those same words - _Dokkaebi Market. Plasmatonic. Yeosang’s relying on you._ \- over and over and over, speaking them out loud when the darkness threatened to suffocate and disorient him. He was scared and felt like a fish out of water, but he knew he could do anything so long as he had a clear goal in mind. Finally, he reached another stairwell. The stairs that led up to the lobby were grown over, but the ones that led down were completely clear. Seonghwa didn’t hesitate to descend them, relief washing over him as a large gate came into view. 

_That must be the security gate Yeosang was talking about._ Seonghwa quickened his pace, his eyes darting around looking for the camera so he could get Yeosang’s attention. He finally found it, tucked up in the corner of the wall, and began waving at it frantically. A light on the gate flashed green and the gate made a loud buzzing sound. Seonghwa turned around quickly, sure that he heard footsteps on the stairs, but he couldn’t hear anything else above the rumbling of the gate opening. He kept checking the stairs frantically as the gate slowly opened, but nothing. Once the gate was open enough for him to slip through, he waved at the camera again and stepped into the parking area.

Or rather, he attempted to. Just as his feet were about to hit the pavement, something gripped his arm firmly and yanked him back. His other arm flailed slightly as his balance shifted. Seonghwa was certain he was going to fall, his mind splitting its focus between that and trying to figure out what had yanked him back. Somehow, Seonghwa managed to plant his feet and keep his footing, but he had no time to celebrate the small victory as a voice spoke up behind him. 

“ _Where do you think you’re going?_ ” 

Seonghwa turned, finding himself face to face with the creature he’d been doing his best to avoid. His stomach sank as he realized he _had_ heard footsteps in the stairwell. Not Professor Song’s grip on his wrist was strong, and he knew there was no way he was going to pull out of it. Not Professor Song laughed, a low sound that made Seonghwa’s blood run colder the louder it got. It’s hair hung down in front of its face, obscuring all but one glowing red eye and a few impossibly sharp teeth. Its claws dug into his wrist, making him wince and recall the gouges in the hallway walls. It felt like ages ago that he was pounding on the security door, begging someone, anyone, to let him in and save him from this same creature. That fear, that powerlessness...Seonghwa expected to feel it again, but he didn’t. Instead, as he stared into the creature's face, he felt a strange calm wash over him, followed quickly by rage and the certainty that this monster had been what killed his friend. He wasn’t going to let it kill Yeosang, too. Seonghwa glowered up at the monster, fixing his mind on the goal. 

_Dokkaebi Market._ Seonghwa did his best to shift his weight, to ground himself more firmly. At the same time, he balled his trapped hand into a fist, tensed through the whole arm, and yanked down as hard as he could. The monster, caught of guard, stumbled and lost its balance. 

_Plasmatonic._ Taking advantage of the brief moment of surprise, Seonghwa shifted his weight again, throwing his bag and grasping it with his trapped hand. With his free hand, he reached into the front pocket and pulled out the taser Yeosang had given him. 

_Yeosang’s relying on you._ Gripping the taser firmly, Seonghwa jammed it against the monster’s neck and pressed the button on the stock. A loud crackling sound rang out through the parking area, echoing off the walls and mixing in with the monster’s screams. Its body went ridged, its grip tightening on Seonghwa’s wrist and drawing blood. Seonghwa released the button and pulled back, yanking his arm free when he felt the monster’s body go limp. The gate buzzed again and Seonghwa looked up to see it closing. Quickly, he reared back and kicked at the monster as hard as he could, sending its twitching body rolling back into the stairwell as the gate finally closed between them. 

Seonghwa took a deep breath, trying his best to calm himself. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, could almost feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins. A distant part of him was freaking out, screaming at him about how reckless he’d just been, but he could barely hear it over the fog that was settling over him. He gave his wrist a quick once over and, deciding it was ultimately fine, shouldered his bag once more and began to make his way through the parking area. He tossed the taser away, its cartridge spent and useless. Yeosang called him, no doubt having seen the altercation on the security cam. Seonghwa answered and pressed the phone to his ear, but said nothing. ‘Hello’ seemed too casual after what had just happened, and he was blanking on a greeting that was more appropriate. 

Yeosang had him covered. “Holy _shit,_ are you okay?” 

Seonghwa considered the question. “I’m alive. No serious injuries.” 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see it, I don’t know how it got down there.”

“Probably the same way I did.” Seonghwa didn’t like the lack of emotion in his voice, but he didn’t know what to do about it. “Yeosang...that’s...not Professor Song, is it? Why does it look like her? What is it?” 

“It’s a flesh thrall. Sehwa’s shade created it.” 

“I see.” Seonghwa hadn’t the faintest idea what a shade was, or what a flesh thrall was, but he was glad that thing wasn’t actually Professor Song. That made things a little easier to swallow; he could stop trying to reconcile the Professor Song he knew with the one that had been trying to kill him all evening. “So because this shade is from Sehwa, it made the...what’d you call it? A flesh thrall? It made it look like one of the professors there?”

Yeosang was quiet for a moment. “Something like that,” he finally said. “It’s unusual for flesh thralls to pursue someone this far from the place they were meant to defend, though. You must have done something to really piss that shade off.” 

“All I did was try to go home,” Seonghwa grumbled. “Whatever. We’ll just call that problem dealt with for now, but that thing got into the station so I’m sure it knows how to get out, and I don’t think it’ll stay down for long. I should get going.” 

“There’s a door at the end of the parking lot that lets out into the square right outside the market. Should be a straight shot from there.” 

“Sounds good.”

The line was quiet, and Seonghwa was about to hang up when Yeosang spoke up again. “Be careful out there, Seonghwa. You’re never safe here, ok? Don’t get complacent.” 

The line went dead before Seonghwa could respond. He smiled slightly, before making his way through the parking area. Part of him was excited about being at the Dokkaebi Market. He was sick of being trapped inside abandoned buildings; some fresh air would probably do him some good. 

As he pushed open the door to the square, the cold night air hitting him in the face, a small voice in the back of his mind reminded him he was working against a deadline. He needed to be quick, otherwise Yeosang...he gave his head a shake as he stepped into the night air. 

There was no otherwise. He was going to save Yeosang. No one else was going to die, he was going to make sure of it.


	4. Only The Good Die Young

_03.22_

_“Our family is a potent force to be reckoned with, one that has always and will always steer the course of human history in profound ways.”_

_I remember listening to you with wide, star-filled eyes as you recounted to me what our grandmother had told you the day you turned ten. I wasn’t surprised to find out my brother was special; I’d adored you my entire life. You were my whole world and I would have done anything for you, even before I knew you were special._

_When you started exhibiting The Gift our parents were overjoyed, our extended family even more so. I didn’t entirely understand what it was you were meant to do, but it made our family happy, so it made me happy. That was really all I needed to know._

_Which is why their reactions when I started to exhibit The Gift were so confusing. You were thrilled, you said it meant we could work together once I was old enough and, at the time, there was nothing more I could have wanted. But our parents weren’t so enthusiastic. They were more...almost frightened, and I couldn’t understand why. Neither could you. You told me I probably just started showing signs early, that it meant I would be really strong later on and they were surprised but...it didn’t feel like that._

_When I was ten, when I finally got to speak to grandmother about what The Gift was and what it meant, I didn’t hear anything like what you did. Instead of telling me I was destined for greatness, that I was important, grandmother merely looked at me, shook her head, and said “It was never meant to be you.” She ignored me for the rest of the visit._

_The car ride home was similar; our parents didn’t ask me how it went. They didn’t ask me why I looked sad, didn’t even greet me when they came to pick me up. When I returned home, you asked me what she said and I told you the same thing you’d told me, as much of it as I could remember. I never told you what she really said. I was scared you would ignore me like everyone else had if you knew._

_You figured things out soon enough, though. It was easy to figure out, considering you were constantly visiting grandmother for ‘training’ and I wasn’t. You pressed me as to why and I eventually told you that I’d lied, that I wasn’t special like you were. I didn’t tell you what she’d said but I told you most everything else. I wasn’t chosen like you were, that was all there was to it._

_You weren’t having it. From that point on, every lesson you got from grandmother, you came home and passed on to me. Through you, I learned more about our family than I ever thought possible. I learned our ancestors possessed eldritch knowledge, that for generations our family had been both respected and feared. I learned that, if properly trained, we would not only be able to speak to spirits beyond our realm, but we would actually be able to travel to a realm outside of our own, something called The Coma. There, our abilities would be even more potent._

_We were young, and everything was so exciting that I think we missed the danger. Red flags were everywhere, but we paid them no mind. You and I were convinced that once we’d mastered The Gift, we’d both be a force to be reckoned with. We’d travel to this shadow realm, we’d defeat the dark entities that resided there, and we’d bring peace to both realms. It was your destiny, according to grandmother, and you were certain that with both of us working together, it was guaranteed to come about. When you introduced me to the others, I began to get really pulled into your vision. We were strong, we had a good team...how could we do anything but succeed?_

_Going there was different, though. The Coma was a far worse place than I had been able to imagine, and once you started taking me with you, my attitude toward the whole thing started to change. I began to realize that we’d been naive, that we had never truly grasped just how dangerous that place was. You and I started to argue on a regular basis. Nothing huge, just small disagreements, but they began to grow over time. You thought I wasn’t committed enough to our plan, I thought you were being reckless, going to The Coma alone when no one else was available. We began to avoid each other, to intentionally and obviously be ‘too busy’ for each other. We never truly yelled at one another, but the unrest was there, and we should have known. Negative emotions and the actions that led to them...we knew all of that would only make The Coma stronger. Maybe we forgot, or maybe we just thought no matter how strong it got, it could never be stronger than us, together. And maybe we were right to think that._

_But we weren’t always together._

_We’d argued the day you fell ill. I think that might be my biggest regret. You’d had something you wanted to tell me, you’d looked paranoid all day and I should have paid more attention to it. But I was angry with you for once more going to The Coma alone, and I wanted you to feel it. So I blew you off. I figured if what you had to tell me was so important, you could tell me once I’d calmed down._

_It sounds so childish when I lay it out like that, and I wish I could just take it all back._

_Everyone in the afterschool program was aware of the ambulance being called that night, but no one knew what was going on. There were whispers here and there, someone had passed out, they weren’t waking up, but no one knew who it was. Not until Hongjoong-hyung showed up and asked for me._

_I knew by the look on his face that something had happened to you, but I didn’t allow myself to really believe it until we were at the hospital, until I saw you lying there, unresponsive. The doctors said they didn’t know what had happened, that you seemed in perfect health, but no one was listening. Our parents and I knew what had happened. The darkness had gotten you. You were lost in The Coma._

_For our parents and grandparents, this meant our familial legacy was over. We never had a funeral, never officially pronounced you dead, but mom and dad behaved that way nonetheless. As far as they knew, there was no returning from The Coma once it claimed you. They stopped speaking to each other and moved about their days on autopilot. It was as if all of their hopes and dreams had rested on you and now everything was over. Our legacy died with you._

_But you aren’t dead, and you weren’t the only one capable of traveling to and from The Coma. I knew everything you did, I had a decent relationship with the rest of the team, and I wasn’t willing to give up on my brother that easily. So, I demanded grandmother continue with her lessons, teaching me in your place. She maintained that it was never meant to be me, that you were the one meant to carry on our familial legacy but I didn’t let up. I told her all I wanted to do was save you, bring you back and allow you to finish what you started. It didn’t matter to me how our family viewed me, I just wanted my brother back. On that, grandmother and I were able to agree._

_Grandmother continued to teach me, and I continued to travel to The Coma, gathering more and more knowledge and utilizing every chance I had to search for your lost soul. The more I studied with grandmother, the more we were both able to see just how naturally I took to the rites she was teaching me. I was always wary around her, but I think the lessons helped mend the damage done to our relationship. She never came out and said it, but I could tell she regretted turning me away all those years ago. I think it was that regret that led her to reveal the truth about our familial legacy, why your loss had been so devastating._

_The Coma isn’t just a shadow of the Waking World, it’s a parasite. It feeds off of negative emotions and the actions that caused them, and will continue to do so until the darkness is strong enough to consume the waking world. Lesser spirits that attempt this can be defeated with the use of simple rites and rituals, but true shades...they were a different beast entirely. True, powerful shades move in the dark, fear and rumor from the Waking World quietly fueling their power until they’re strong enough to spread their dark tentacles into new domains. Their influence in the coma spreads quickly and, once that no longer satiates them, they inevitably turn their gaze toward the Waking World. And since time immemorial, our family had fought and defeated the hostile entities seeking to spill into our realm. A shade’s abilities in the Waking World are limited but should the realms ever come in sync and a powerful shade crosses over, it could mean complete devastation. Plagues, mysterious natural disasters, mass disappearances...these are all the result of unchecked shades crossing into our world and all of us who are born into the fold are to wage an unending war against these malevolent entities. The day grandmother revealed all of this to me, I finally understood the weight of your - and now my - responsibilities._

_My main priority is finding you and returning you to the Waking World, so that you can fulfill your destiny and prevent the Blood Ritual from taking place. However, time is running short, and the fourth and final Blood Moon is upon us. I will never give up on you, but it would be reckless of me to put all my hopes on finding you in time. I asked grandmother if she thought I’d be able to wield the Moon Incense, if I could see our family’s duty fulfilled in your place. She said the same thing she’d said to me all those years ago. “It was never meant to be you.”_

_Maybe it was wishful thinking, or maybe I was viewing our interactions through a more hopeful lens, but there was something else there this time. She looked like she wanted to say more, like the statement wasn’t supposed to end there. Like she finally saw what you did._

_It was never_ **_meant_ ** _to be me, but that doesn’t mean it_ **_can’t_ ** _be me._

 _I know I’m not her first choice. I’m not even_ **_my_ ** _first choice. But the blood moon is coming, and I’m all we’ve got. I’ll be enough, I have to be._

_Forgive me, Taehoon, but you’re going to have to wait for me a little while longer. The shade needs to be stopped before I can resume my search. But don’t worry - I’ll find you, and I’ll bring you home. When that time comes, you will wake up from your long sleep to a new world. I want to show you all of it!_

_I’ll be back tomorrow. Goodnight._

\- _YH_

* * *

“You can’t be here!” 

Seonghwa stopped and stared at the man in front of him. The man wore a hard hat and was clad in dull, faded coveralls. Given the construction equipment in the area, as well as the many materials strewn about, Seonghwa easily came to the conclusion that he'd stumbled upon some kind of construction site. Odd, considering the Dokkaebi Market should have been in that area. It took a moment before he realized the Dokkaebi Market _was_ the construction site; or rather, the front gate was and, as such, the entrance was completely blocked off. That meant he was going to have to find another way in. “Of course,” he muttered, trying to keep from scowling at the man. It wasn’t his fault, in the Waking World the construction had been going on for a few days now, but...it was just his luck that Seonghwa would spend most of the night locked _inside_ places, only to find himself locked _out_ of the one place he actually wanted to be. “I need to get into the market,” he finally said. “Is there another way in?” 

The construction worker stared at him, not saying anything. He seemed to be studying Seonghwa, sizing him up or something. “The market’s closed,” he said. 

“To casual shoppers,” another voice said. Seonghwa felt an arm wrap around his shoulders and turned to see the smiling face of Jeong Yunho. “But my friend and I have business here tonight. I trust you’ll let us pass without a problem?” 

The construction worker's entire demeanor changed once he saw Yunho. “Of course, I didn’t realize he was with you lot.” 

“New recruit,” Yunho said, winking at Seonghwa. “He’s still learning the ropes.” 

The construction worker turned to Seonghwa, embarrassed. “My apologies.”

“Oh, no no, that’s alright!” 

“Looking forward to seeing this when it’s done,” Yunho said gesturing to the gate as he led Seonghwa toward a door, slightly obscured by construction equipment. It led into a dark tunnel that, Seonghwa assumed, led to the Dokkaebi Market. He thought to ask, but once the door shut behind them, Yunho beat him to the punch. “What are you doing here?” 

Seonghwa started slightly. He’d admitted to himself numerous times that night that he wasn’t particularly close with Yunho, but in all the time he had known him, he’d never once heard him sound so _unfriendly._ His tone was short, demanding, and devoid of any sort of politeness. It was clear to Seonghwa his was not a welcome presence. Still, Yeosang was waiting for him, and he wasn’t going to back down just because Yunho was a little taller than him and probably a member of a dangerous cult. “I’m looking for someone, an apothecary.” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” 

The hall was dark, but Seonghwa thought Yunho smiled at that. He turned, motioning for Seonghwa to follow him down the hall. “It’s my business because, regardless of what I told that shade out there, you don’t belong here.” 

“And you do?” 

“Yes. How did you even get here?”

“The parking area under the police station.” 

“No,” Yunho laughed quietly. “How did you get _here,_ to The Coma?” 

Seonghwa shrugged, then remembered his ‘dream’ and how he’d heard Yunho talking with some others while he was passed out on the floor. He glared at the other, though he was sure Yunho didn’t see. “You tell me, you’re the one who left me back at Sehwa.” 

Yunho stopped then, just for a moment. He looked at Seonghwa, but it was too dark to really see his face. When he next spoke, his voice had lost some of its edge and he sounded somewhat...uncertain. “I don’t know what you mean.” He started walking again, his pace a bit faster than before.

“He’ll be lucky if he makes it through the witching hour,” Seonghwa said. “I’ve been having difficulty telling time in here so you tell me, did I make it through the witching hour? Am I _lucky,_ Yunho?” He didn’t realize just how angry he was until then, until he heard the fury in his voice and took small pleasure from seeing the other flinch. “I guess it doesn’t matter, though, does it? Because it’s _not your problem,_ is it.” 

They reached another door and Yunho pushed it open with more force that Seonghwa thought was necessary. The market was dark still, but the faded lights of the various shops and stands illuminated the street enough that Seonghwa wouldn’t have to use his flashlight. He was glad for that; he didn’t know how much battery he had left. Yunho held the door open, refusing to look Seonghwa in the eye, but seemingly waiting for him to exit first. Seonghwa fixed him with a glare before pushing past him, stopping only when Yunho started talking again. 

“You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into,” he said, the icy edge back in his voice. “But you’ll figure it out soon enough, I’m sure. Be careful while you’re here. Don’t go pissing anyone off and certainly don’t give anyone your name. Do you understand?”

_Guard your name._

Seonghwa frowned. Why couldn’t he remember who had said that to him? “Why?” He asked. “What happens if I--”

“I can’t babysit you all night,” Yunho snapped. “I have important matters to attend to and honestly, you’re boring me. Just...don’t go out of your way to cause any problems while you’re here.” 

Seonghwa wanted to reply, but Yunho was already heading further into the market, not sparing him so much as a parting glance. “Whatever,” Seonghwa said. He shifted his bag slightly and looked around. 

_Everything here is a shadow of your world._

The Dokkaebi Market was close to Seonghwa’s apartment and as such Seonghwa found himself there frequently. He did most of his shopping at the market, having taken a liking to the open atmosphere and the amicable nature of most of the shopkeepers. He’d never visited an apothecary, but he’d frequented the butcher shop and, if memory served him, there was some sort of remedy shop near there. It was as good a place as any to start; he could call Yeosang and ask the exact location of the shop, but he didn’t want to bother him if he didn’t have to. He definitely needed to rest as much as he could. 

Seonghwa made his way to the butcher shop, taking in as much of the market as he could along the way. The shops seemed to be lined up exactly how he remembered them, but most of the shopkeepers were different. He remembered Yunho calling the construction worker at the gate a shade; that’s also what Yeosang had said created the flesh thrall that looked like Professor Song. Seonghwa had no idea what Sehwa’s shade looked like, but he figured he was safe to assume not all of them made murderous creatures to attack anyone trespassing. The market was full of people who seemed to wander aimlessly, no real intention to their steps. They all seemed to look slightly duller than any of the actual people Seonghwa had run into, like they were there but only just barely. _They must be shades,_ he thought. _That officer back at the station probably was one, too._ The shopkeepers had the same dull look to them, but seemed to have more of their wits about them. Some called out to him, likely hoping to get him to buy something. Seonghwa quickly patted the pocket where he’d stored the hellion, making sure he hadn’t lost it on the way here. He laughed at the idea that even a shadow world would have a preferred currency, but if the shades were anything to go by, he figured The Coma was a lot more than an dark echo of the Waking World. 

Once he reached the butcher shop he had a quick look around, silently cheering when he spotted a sign for the Dokkaebi Apothecary. His attention was briefly drawn to the butcher shop and Seonghwa felt his feet start moving away from it almost on their own. The place looked terrifying at night, and suddenly he couldn’t get away from it fast enough. The Dokkaebi Apothecary, however, had a calm, welcoming aura about it. The shop was kept up fairly well, better than most he’d seen, and the various hanging dried herbs and jars of remedies were somewhat charming. The interior had a similar feel; more hanging herbs and jars of remedies hung from the ceiling and filled the shelves along the walls. The place was dimly lit, a few candles here and there casting small pools of dancing light about the place. The apothecary himself was seated behind a large counter, looking up when Seonghwa entered. He smiled at the tutor, the dancing light giving his eyes an odd glint and making his teeth appear impossibly sharp. 

“Welcome, welcome,” the apothecary said. “How can I help you?” He looked surprisingly young, around Seonghwa's age, and had dark hair and rather sharp features. Seonghwa paused and stared at him for a moment, certain he’d seen the man somewhere before. He vaguely remembered the sharp features and the almost too sharp teeth and... _something else?_ he thought. _A jacket; leather, with blue flames..._

_Now boys, there’s no need for hostility._

Seonghwa snapped, pointing excitedly at the apothecary. “You were at the university earlier this evening!” he said. He wracked his brain for a name. “Mr...Dokkaebi, right?” He nodded excitedly, the name of the shop finally making a little more sense. 

The apothecary studied him for a minute before once more flashing that too-sharp smile. “Oh yes, you’re that professor that helped keep Wooyoung out of trouble.” 

“Oh, no, no,” Seonghwa laughed. “I’m just a tutor. But...yes.”

“No one who assists in expanding young minds is ‘just’ anything, tutor.” 

Seonghwa felt himself smile at that. He’d never really looked at things that way before. 

“Anyway,” Mr. Dokkaebi said. “What brings you to my shop? And in such a dangerous part of town,” he added, chuckling a bit at his own joke. 

It dawned on Seonghwa then that Mr. Dokkaebi didn’t have the same dull look the rest of the shades did. He was as vibrant as Seonghwa was, and seemed twice as lively. He also spoke of the Waking World without any sort of trepedation...was it possible he knew how to travel between the realms? And if so, could he help Seonghwa get home? The one question led to many, and Seonghwa had to make an effort to focus on the task at hand; maybe, once Yeosang was healed and that danger had passed, maybe then Seonghwa could return to ask Mr. Dokkaebi all of his questions. But Yeosang first. 

“Plasmatonic,” he said, digging in his pocket for the hellion. “I need plasmatonic.” 

Mr. Dokkaebi raised an eyebrow. “ _You_ need plasmatonic?”

“No,” Seonghwa said. “Yes. Yes & no. It’s not for me, it’s for a friend.”

“Your friend must be mixed up in some pretty serious business if they’ve a need for plasmatonic.” 

Seonghwa frowned. “Why do you say that?” 

Mr. Dokkaebi turned and began grabbing a few jars and herbs off the shelves behind him. “Plasmatonic cures the effects of eldritch venom. It’s a slow-spreading poison - so long as you don’t move - but it’s deadly and nearly impossible to obtain. Whoever’s responsible for poisoning your friend must have access to some dangerous people.”

 _How the hell did Wooyoung get his hands on some, then? And for that matter, why did he try to hurt Yeosang?_ Seonghwa's frown deepened as he once more found himself lost in thought. It was possible he'd been wrong, that whoever it was that poisoned Yeosang wasn't Wooyoung, but... _all I've managed to gain tonight is more and more questions._

The apothecary worked to combine the ingredients he’d collected, grabbing more here and there as he went. He hummed to himself as he worked, Seonghwa seemingly forgotten. “Hmm…” Mr. Dokkaebi began rummaging around, as if to look for something. “Well...shit.”

Pulling himself from his thoughts, Seonghwa leaned slightly over the counter in an attempt to see what the issue was. “What’s wrong?” 

Mr. Dokkaebi sighed, running his hands over his face. “Plasmatonic requires an herb called grimseng, and I appear to be completely out of it.” 

Seonghwa groaned before he could stop himself. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, covering his mouth. “I’ve just...had a really rough night.” He sighed. “Would anyone else in the market have any?” 

Mr. Dokkaebi thought for a moment. “Perhaps. It has many uses. But I don’t know off the top of my head who _would._ You’ll have to ask around.” 

Seonghwa forced a smile and thanked Mr. Dokkaebi, before wandering out of the shop. He’d felt so hopeful and light when he entered but, once again, nothing seemed to go his way. He knew Yeosang didn’t have a lot of time, but had absolutely no idea who to ask for grimseng. Seonghwa looked up suddenly, thinking to ask Mr. Dokkaebi what the uses were - maybe that could help him narrow down the shops that might have some - when he froze. A little ways down the street stood who Seonghwa assumed was the butcher. Their appearance was dull, like the shades, but their apron was covered in blood and they stared directly at Seonghwa, an eerie smile stretched across their face. A large, bloodied butcher’s cleaver was clutched in each hand and Seonghwa felt his blood run cold. The butcher took a step toward him before stopping, dropping their gaze, and retreating into the butcher shop. Another figure stood behind them, something burning in their hand. They watched the butcher enter the shop, before tossing the burning thing on the ground at the foot of the door and turning to Seonghwa with a bright - familiar - smile. 

“There you are,” Yunho said, approaching Seonghwa quickly. “Be careful around the butcher, he gets...grumpy.” Yunho made a face before once more smiling at Seonghwa, as if what he'd said was supposed to be some kind of joke. 

Seonghwa merely stared back, shocked at how different Yunho seemed. He’d been so cold earlier, had acted as if Seonghwa was a burden or in the way or something. But the Yunho before him was more like the Yunho he knew: bright, smiling, kind. Seonghwa glared at him, not sure which Yunho was the 'real' one. “Thanks, but I know to avoid the guy with two huge, bloody knives.” 

Yunho threw his hands up, not missing the edge in Seonghwa’s voice. “Ok, ok, I get it. I was an asshole earlier. I get why you’re upset. But...I was actually looking for you. So I could apologize.” He smiled sheepishly. “It didn’t sit right with me, the way I treated you. I was disrespectful and mean and...you didn’t deserve that. I’m sure you don't want to be here anymore than we want you here.” He frowned. “No...that came out wrong...I mean…” 

“I don’t care what you mean,” Seonghwa snapped. “You don't have time to babysit me, right? Well, I don’t have time to sit around making you feel better, either, so unless you can tell me where I can find some grimseng you can shove your apology up your--why are you looking at me like that?”

Yunho smiled at Seonghwa, brighter than he had all night, and looked almost excited. Seonghwa was briefly reminded of a puppy and found it difficult to remain angry at the other. “I do,” he said, grabbing Seonghwa’s arm and dragging him along. 

Seonghwa pulled out of his grasp. “You do...what?”

“Know where you can find grimseng,” Yunho said. “Come on, I’ll show you.” 

Seonghwa watched Yunho walk away, his mouth agape. He’d only said it on a whim, he didn’t think the other had any idea where to _actually_ find some. “Wait,” he called, running a bit to catch up. “You actually know where I can get some?”

“Yeah,” Yunho said. “There’s an herbalist at the end of this street. The way’s blocked by those vines that have been cropping up but,” he winked at Seonghwa for the second time that night. “I know a way around them.” 

Seonghwa was dumbfounded and, as such, followed Yunho in silence. The other led him up a couple streets, past a number of shops and stalls, before finally leading them into the Woohyeok Bakery. The building was dark and dreary, like most of the other shops, but that didn’t keep Yunho from walking in like he was visiting an old friend back home. 

“Yunho!” A shade that resembled an old lady came out from a room in the back and pulled Yunho into a tight embrace, which he happily returned. “It’s been too long!”

“I’m sorry, you know how time gets away from me." Yunho laughed softly. "Has it really been that long?” 

“It’s been ages! I was ready to throw in the towel and just say I'd see you at my funeral or something!" They both laughed at that. "Though I should be glad you decided to visit at all, that brother of yours--” 

“I’m actually here with a friend!” Yunho almost yelled, cutting her off. “I hope that’s alright.” 

The old lady shifted her attention to Seonghwa, smiling once more and pulling him into a tight embrace as well. “Hello! Any friend of Yunho’s is welcome here!” Seonghwa returned the embrace, surprised by the firmness of her grip. He’d assumed shades were more like ghosts, but he was quickly learning that wasn’t the case. “What brings you both here?” 

“My friend is in need of some grimseng, so I was taking him to Mrs. Park's shop.” He smiled at the old lady. “If that’s alright with you?” 

“Of course it is, you know that.” She turned and gestured for them to follow her. “Though, please have another word with that old man, would you?”

Yunho frowned. “Has he been making comments again?” 

“Nothing too cruel, but he comes in here every day with his negative attitude and never so much as says thank you or good morning! I don’t _have_ to let him pass through my shop, make sure he knows that. I’m doing him a favor. The least he could do is not be so negative.” She led them through the shop, to a back door that opened into an alleyway. 

“I’ll be sure to let him know, Mrs. Jang. Thank you so much.” The two embraced again and Seonghwa simply watched. If this had been the first thing he’d witnessed that night, he would have had a much harder time accepting that this wasn’t his world. It was like Yunho was visiting a distant relative, or a family friend, and Seonghwa was impressed that relationships like that could be had with shades, or that anything like that could even be achieved in such a dark place. “What’s on your mind?” Yunho asked after a while. 

“Just...thinking.” Seonghwa shoved his hands into his pockets as he followed Yunho out of the alley and down the street. "Are all the shades like Mrs. Jang?"

"That depends," Yunho said.

"On?"

"On what you mean by 'like Mrs. Jang'. I'm assuming you mean personable?" Seonghwa nodded. "No. Most shades are a little foggy. They don't have anything that really ties them down enough, I guess. They don't know who they are, or what their purpose is, or anything like that. Most shades are made up of the negative emotions a person feels when they've been through something, so typically all a shade knows is that it's sad, or angry, or lonely, or what have you. But the shopkeepers are different." Yunho smiled at him. "I don't know what it is, but a good number of them knew they were shopkeepers, and having that sort of purpose allowed them to sort of ground themselves. The first time I met Mrs. Jang, I was surprised to see her as lively here as she was back home." 

"Do you have a good relationship with all the shopkeepers?"

"Not all, but most. The market is my favorite place to go here, it doesn't feel all that different from back home. My brother used to tease me about it, he thought they wouldn't notice if I didn't visit but...well, you heard Mrs. Jang. Clearly they do."

Seonghwa laughed at that, before remembering something else Mrs. Jang had said. “Why doesn’t your brother visit anymore?” 

“What?” The look Yunho gave him then was hard to place. Panic? Distress? Seonghwa couldn’t quite pin it down.

“You just...Mrs. Jang made it seem like he didn’t visit anymore but you didn’t let her finish what she was saying. I was just wondering…” 

Yunho was quiet for a while and something told Seonghwa to just leave him be. He had a bad feeling he'd touched on something he maybe shouldn't have, and if Yunho wanted to remain quiet on the subject, Seonghwa was more than willing to let him. The herbalist's sign had just come into view when Yunho finally spoke up again. “My brother’s sick, that’s why he hasn’t been visiting. I haven’t told her yet, though. It’d break her heart.” Seonghwa didn’t miss how heavy Yunho’s voice sounded, like he was trying to keep from crying.

“Is it...bad?” Yunho just nodded. “Are...are you alright?” 

Yunho looked like he was surprised by the question. “I miss him,” he said after a bit. “And I think the worst part is, he’s right there. I see him every day. He’s just...not...there. So I see him, and I talk to him but...I miss him.” 

Seonghwa nodded. It reminded him a lot of Jongho’s situation. Seonghwa visited him multiple times a week, talked to him frequently, but he couldn’t be sure Jongho could hear him. He was there but he wasn’t. It sucked, and Jongho was just his student. He couldn’t imagine that happening to a family member, much less one he was close to. It was odd to him how unique Jongho’s condition was and yet, as Yunho talked about his brother, Seonghwa was able to understand what he was trying to say. Even when Yunho seemed to have trouble finding the right words, Seonghwa found himself nodding along. Understanding. As if Jongho and Yunho’s brother were suffering from the same strange illness.

“Is he…” Seonghwa thought for a moment. “Is your brother older than you?” 

Yunho nodded. “Yeah.”

“By a lot?” 

“Not really?” He gave Seonghwa a confused look. “Only about 5 years, why?” 

The gears in Seonghwa’s mind started turning, spinning faster and faster as he put things together. Yunho’s brother was older than him. Yunho’s brother was suffering from the same illness Jongho was. Yunho was a math tutor. Yunho was close to Hongjoong. Yunho and Hongjoong often signed the book together. Hongjoong used to sign the book with someone else. Someone with the same name as a math professor who had fallen ill at Sehwa, much like Jongho had. Someone who had a brother enrolled at Sehwa University.

“Your brother’s name,” he said suddenly. “Was it Taehoon?” Yunho stared at him, his face unreadable. “He was a professor at Sehwa, right? A math professor. He fell ill shortly before Jongho did.” Seonghwa was talking more to himself than Yunho at that point, the pieces continuing to fall into place. “They’ve got the same thing.” 

Yunho furrowed his brow in concentration. "Jongho...?" His expression changed then, his face lighting up in realization. "Yeah, I guess they do." They’d reached the herbalist shop and Yunho pulled the door open without another word. Seonghwa stepped inside, but Yunho remained on the street, his gaze fixed on something in the distance. “Uh…” he ran a hand through his hair and gave Seonghwa a weak smile. “The herbalist keeps everything well marked, so grimseng should be easy to find. Grab what you need and head back the way we came. Mrs. Jang will let you back through the bakery, just knock on the door three times. Loudly. She’ll complain about it but she won’t hear it otherwise, her hearing isn’t what it used to be.” He stopped, blinked a few times, and laughed. “I’m rambling.” 

“It’s fine,” Seonghwa said. “Where are you going?” 

“I need to stop by the hardware store,” he said, pointing over his shoulder. “Have a talk with the owner about negative vibes and how not to drag them through the bakery.” They both laughed. Yunho waved and was on his way, the door clicking shut softly behind him.

Seonghwa watched him go as best he could, his head full. Everything seemed so much simpler this morning. The people he saw almost daily were just that, acquaintances that existed in their own separate bubbles. But now everything was all jumbled up, and everyone he seemed to come in contact with was connected. Hongjoong was connected to Yunho who was connected to Taehoon who was connected to Jongho who was connected to Yeosang who was connected to Wooyoung who was connected to Mr. Dokkaebi. And in the center of it all was Seonghwa, crossing paths with each of them over and over again and tying them all together in even more ways. Wooyoung had poisoned Yeosang, who sent Seonghwa to Mr. Dokkaebi for an antidote which can only be made with the herbs in a shop he’d needed Yunho to get to. He wondered, briefly, if Yeosang and Yunho knew each other. Or if Yeosang and Hongjoong knew each other. Or if Yunho and Jongho knew each other. Did Yunho have a good relationship with Mr. Dokkaebi? And if so, did he know Wooyoung, too? 

“I just wanted to go to bed,” he said aloud to the empty shop. “I just wanted to go home and go to bed.” Seonghwa sighed, gripped the strap of his bag a little tighter, and pushed forward into the shop. He couldn’t waste anymore time. 

Finding the grimseng was easy and, since there was no one around to actually sell it to him, he left a note on the counter saying he’d return to settle up in the morning. He waited in the street for a moment, wanting to offer to walk back with Yunho should the other happen by, but after a few minutes and no sign of him, Seonghwa started back. He figured he’d said a bit too much anyway, and maybe Yunho needed a bit of time to himself. Talking about his brother looked to take a lot out of him, and Seonghwa couldn’t fault him for wanting some space. He knocked on the bakery door three times, hugged Mrs. Jang when she pulled him into her arms, and was back on the main road in no time, on his way back to Mr. Dokkaebi’s shop. The walk back was uneventful, not all that different from the first time he made his way to the shop but...something about how Yunho had interacted with Mrs. Jang and how he spoke about the other merchants made Seonghwa see the place in a different light. It suddenly didn’t feel all that different from the times he’d walked around the market back home. It was quieter, and darker, but it was still full of life. Weird, shadow life, but life nonetheless. It was less scary when he looked at it like that. 

Seonghwa found himself calling out to Mr. Dokkaebi as he entered the shop, holding the grimseng over his head triumphantly. “I got it,” he said, grinning. “Funny how you didn’t mention there was an herbalist’s shop here.” 

“The way is blocked,” Mr. Dokkaebi said and...did he sound confused? Seonghwa wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter. He was just moments away from getting the medicine he needed to help Yeosang. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up only to have you be disappointed.”

“Well, we’re here now. And so is this,” he said, handing the grimseng over. “That’s the last thing you needed, right?” 

Mr. Dokkaebi nodded. “Yes, this is it.”

Seonghwa narrowed his gaze. “You’re not going to mix a few more ingredients and tell me you’re missing something else?”

The sound that left Mr. Dokkaebi then made Seonghwa’s skin crawl. He supposed it was supposed to be a laugh, but there was something off about the sound. There was no joy in it and it didn’t sound natural. “No, don’t worry. I checked for everything else while you were gone. I was only missing this.” He gave Seonghwa a look. “You _must_ be having a rough night.” 

Seonghwa folded his arms on the counter and rested his forehead against them, hiding his face. “You have no idea. It’s been...well, it’s been hell if we’re being honest.” He listened as Mr. Dokkaebi finished mixing the plasmatonic, the various sounds soothing him and making his eyelids grow heavy. He had no idea what time it was, or how much longer he’d be stuck in The Coma, or when he was going to get to sleep in his own bed, or anything. He’d been running around for what felt like hours and all he had to show for it was a sore ankle and too many unanswered questions. 

A bottle was set on the counter near him, and he lifted his head to see Mr. Dokkaebi smiling at him. Once again, he found no joy in the gesture, only a strange emotion he couldn’t quite place. He took the bottle cautiously, his eyes never leaving the apothecary, certain he was up to something and not wanting to be caught off guard. “Thank you.” 

“Of course. But I’m not just...giving it to you. This is a shop.” Mr. Dokkaebi looked at him expectantly.

“Oh!” Seonghwa started, immediately moving to retrieve the hellion. “Of course, I’m so sorry. Here, this should cover it.” He handed the coins over and watched as Mr. Dokkaebi counted them. 

“Hmm…” Mr. Dokkaebi frowned and looked at Seonghwa. “There’s...not quite enough here.” 

Seonghwa’s heart sank. “What?”

“This doesn’t quite cover it, you’re short. Not by much, but…”

“I don’t have anything more than that, he said that would cover it.” 

“It’s possible it did once but prices change and plasmatonic isn’t easy to make.” 

“Is there anyway I can pay the rest at a later date? Or even...once I get this to my friend I can have him come and settle up with you?”

Mr. Dokkaebi sighed. “That’s not really how this works.”

“Please,” Seonghwa said, not above begging. “Please, he’ll die without this and it’ll be my fault and...please? There has to be something we can work out? Maybe a discount? I did have to get my own grimseng.” He felt his stomach roll. “I promise, I hate to ask this I just...I don’t have any other choice. I swear I’ll pay the difference later I just can’t right now, this is all I have.” 

Mr. Dokkaebi’s face softened and he nodded. “Yes, ok. A discount...of course. You did bring me more grimseng than I needed for the plasmatonic so...ok. We’ll call it even.”

Seonghwa almost jumped over the counter to hug him. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” 

“I will, however, need you to sign a receipt. As proof of the discount.” Mr. Dokkaebi pulled out a small pad of old fashioned receipt paper which he handed to Seonghwa, along with a pen. “I’ll fill the rest of the information out later, I understand you’re in a rush. Just sign there…”

Seonghwa nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, of course, thank you so much!” He signed the receipt with a flourish, handing the pad & pen back to Mr. Dokkaebi. He had a moment to register the apologetic look on the apothecary’s face before every candle in the shop was blown out at once, dropping them into darkness. One by one, the candles relit themselves, this time with a deep blue flame that cast long shadows across Mr. Dokkaebi’s face and made his features look even sharper than before. For the first time, the apothecary actually looked _dangerous,_ though he still wore that same apologetic expression. 

“I feel for you,” Mr. Dokkaebi said, folding his arms in front of him. “I really do. But I don’t know you.” Something that sounded a lot like screaming arose from outside, and Seonghwa noticed how the entire atmosphere of the shop seemed to have shifted. “You humans do so much for the people you care about, so I’m sure you’ll understand when I say I did what I had to do. To save someone important to me. It wasn’t an easy decision but given my choices...I don’t know you.” 

Seonghwa began to back away from the apothecary. He’d made no move to hurt him, but Seonghwa felt he needed to get out of the shop as soon as possible. Something was wrong, and staying where he was was certainly going to get him killed. “I don’t understand, what’s happening?” 

“He said he’d spare me a soul if I got your name.” Mr. Dokkaebi waved the pad of receipts that bore Seonghwa’s signature. “I’m sorry, I had no other choice.” 

“Spare you a soul?” Seonghwa thought for a moment.

“He’s a good kid, he’s just a little lost,” Mr. Dokkaebi said. “He doesn’t deserve this. I really am sorry.”

"A good kid...?" Seonghwa looked at the apothecary with wide eyes. "It was you. _You_ gave Wooyoung the eldritch venom!"

The apothecary looked startled for a moment. "What?"

"That makes sense, I couldn't figure out how he would have gotten ahold of it but--"

"What does Wooyoung have to do with this?"

"He poisoned my friend," Seonghwa said. "With eldritch venom. That he had to have gotten from _you_."

Mr. Dokkaebi frowned. "Wooyoung wouldn't do that." Seonghwa stared at him, confused. He was certain the apothecary had been in on the whole thing, but he looked just as surprised as Seonghwa was. What was more, he sounded like he genuinely believed Wooyoung wasn't capable of poisoning someone. It was possible he was lying but there didn't seem to be much reason to now, he'd already successfully tricked Seonghwa.

A strange sound rang through the shop and the apothecary shook his head with a sigh. He leaned across the counter, fixing Seonghwa with a serious look. “It’s coming now, you should probably start running. If you’re lucky, you’ll make it out in one piece. Go.” Mr. Dokkaebi rose to his full height, his voice filling the shop as he yelled. “GO. RUN!” 

Seonghwa didn’t need to be told twice. He spun on his heels and ran out of the shop as fast as he could. He threw the door open, stepped into the street, and immediately slammed into someone. The force sent him stumbling backwards, but someone grabbed the front of his shirt before he could hit the ground. 

“I knew it.” Seonghwa looked up to see Yunho glaring down at him. “What the hell did you do?”

Seonghwa looked around, surprised by the state of the market. The whole place seemed to be decaying, as if it had aged decades since he’d entered the apothecary’s shop. “What’s going on?” 

Yunho pulled him closer, the anger on his face all too apparent. “What. Did you. Do?” 

A loud screech tore through the night, one that made Seonghwa’s blood run cold. Yunho turned at the sound, the anger dropping from his face as well, replaced briefly by the same fear Seonghwa felt coursing through his veins. “We need to hide,” Seonghwa said.

“We need to get off the street,” Yunho agreed, before turning and dragging Seonghwa toward the butcher shop. 

Seonghwa had to cover his mouth, the stench was strong and he could immediately see why. The place was far from sanitary and was in desperate need of a deep cleaning. If he ever did make it back home, he was probably going to take a break from this particular shop for a while. 

“You made a deal with the Dokkaebi, didn’t you?”

“I...what?” Seonghwa shook his head. “No I just...what dokkaebi?” 

“The apothecary. You made a deal with him, right? God if I had known the grimseng was for _him_ I would have gone with you.”

"Wait...what?" Seonghwa thought for a moment. "Do you mean Mr. Dokkaebi? You think he's an _actual_ dokkaebi?" Seonghwa laughed, but Yunho shot him a look that shut him up instantly.

Yunho ran a hand through his hair, clearly distressed. “I should have known, I found you outside his shop, right? Rookie mistake, Yunho. What the fuck were you thinking?” 

Seonghwa took a step closer to Yunho and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, don’t be so hard on yours--”

“No.” Yunho swatted his hand away. “You. Even children know not to make deals with dokkaebi, what were you _thinking?_ ”

Seonghwa glared at Yunho. “I was thinking someone was dying and I needed to get them some fucking medicine, that’s what I was thinking!” 

Yunho stared back at him silently. Seonghwa could almost see him thinking, trying to piece something together. “You came from the police station...Yeosang?” Something on Seonghwa’s face must have confirmed that, because Yunho pressed on. “Is he alright? What happened?” 

“He got poisoned.” Seonghwa tried to remember what Mr. Dokkaebi had called it. “By..eldritch venom, I guess?” He shrugged. “I needed a plasmatonic and Mr. Dokkaebi said I didn’t have enough money, but he gave me a discount, he just needed my sig--”

_Guard your name._

“Shit. I gave him my name.” Seonghwa groaned. “I gave him my full name.”

“And now it’s here…” Yunho seemed to be lost in thought again, working to put pieces together that Seonghwa couldn’t even see. “Is this your first time in The Coma? It is, right?” Seonghwa nodded. “Then he’d have no use for you, so why go through all the trouble for one random interloper? Unless…” Yunho turned to Seonghwa. “You have something he wants! Something important...he must not be able to perform the blood ritual without it.” 

“The blood ritual?” 

Yunho mumbled something under his breath, before nodding. Yunho grabbed both of Seonghwa’s shoulders and looked him square in the eyes, his expression serious. “I need you to listen to me and listen close. You have to remember everything I’m about to tell you, alright?” Seonghwa nodded. “Once Yeosang’s well, you have to tell him what happened here. He’ll know what to do. If for some reason you don’t make it to Yeosang in time, I need you to find someone named Mingi. He won’t trust you at first, but if you call him Father Mingi he’ll know you know me. Tell him we need to move on to plan B, do you understand?”

“Father Mingi. Plan B. Yes.” 

“If, somehow, you find my brother in here, please, please tell him I’m sorry. I really did try to find him.” 

Seonghwa noticed then just how glassy Yunho’s eyes were, and worry began to nag at him. “Yunho, what--”

“Just _listen,_ ok? We don't have much time. Tell Yeosang I’m sorry about giving him a hard time, I didn’t realize Jongho and Taehoon’s situations were so similar. Please tell him I’m sorry.”

Something about the way Yunho was talking to him felt too final, too much like a goodbye. Like he was using Seonghwa to deliver messages he wouldn’t be able to deliver himself. “You tell him--”

“ _Please._ Tell Jongho, too.” Yunho let go of Seonghwa’s shoulders and pulled something out of his pocket. They looked to Seonghwa like sticks of incense but he couldn’t be sure. Yunho handed a few to Seonghwa, pressing them into his hands firmly. “These should help, should you find yourself face to face with that thing but...ideally, you’ll stay ahead of it. I won’t be able to hold it back for long, though.”

Seonghwa paled. “No. Yunho, no! That thing, it’s...it’ll kill you!” 

“Yeah,” he smiled weakly. “Most likely. But that’s ok. It was never meant to be me.” 

“What are you talking about?” Seonghwa grabbed his arm. “If we go now, we can--”

“Make it a few steps before it catches up to us. It has your name, it’ll find you no matter where you are. Things are going to get more difficult from here on out. You’ve got one chance to get out of this market alive and it’s slim but if I stall it for even a few seconds, you can make it. So...listen closely. I’m giving you a mission.” 

“Yunho--”

“Find the moon incense. Find it and use it to put an end to the blood ritual. Until you find it, stay away from him. I don’t know what you have that he wants, but it’s important. I think if you can at least stay safe, everything will be alright.” His smile grew as the tears finally made their way down his cheeks. “Tell everyone I’m sorry. Mingi, Yeosang, my brother, Hongjoong-hyung...everyone. And…I’m sorry for being an asshole to you. I swear I just...I was worried about you. That’s not an excuse but this place is dangerous and I didn't think you were taking it seriously. I didn’t want you to get hurt, too. I thought if I was cold enough to you you’d lay low and stay out of the way but...you were just trying to help. Of course you were just trying to help. I'm sorry and...thank you. You didn't have to help Yeosang."

Seonghwa shook his head vehemently. “No, there has to be another way, a way we can both get out of here.” 

Yunho grabbed Seonghwa’s shoulders again, tightly, and began pushing him back toward the door. "You’re part of this now. I don’t know if you were meant to be or not but you are now.” They could hear the screeching getting louder, knew the flesh thrall was very close. “We have one shot at this. As soon as you hit the ground, you have to start running. Back toward the apothecary, but don't stop there. Keep going. At the end of the street there’s a ladder, it’ll get you on top of the shops. From there it’s a clear shot to the front gate. Use the scaffolding to climb down and haul ass back to Yeosang. Don’t think about anything else, don’t look back, don’t worry about me. Just run. Ok? Just run.”

Tears had begun to form in Seonghwa’s eyes as well, and when he next spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. “We can _both_ run, Yunho.” 

Yunho shook his head. “But we can't both _survive."_ He took a deep breath. "It’s almost here. Get ready. As soon as you hit the ground, you run. Understand?”

“ _No--_ ”

“You have to survive. You’re our best chance now.” 

When it happened, it happened fast. The shrieks grew too loud, and Seonghwa had only a moment to see the flesh thrall break through one of the windows before Yunho was pushing him out the door, into the street, yelling for him to run. As soon as he felt the ground beneath him, Seonghwa pushed himself to his feet and ran. He did his best to block out the screaming from behind him, did his best to clear the tears from his eyes, and simply ran as fast as he could. _Ladder. Roof. Gate. Yeosang._ He heard the shrieking again, heard the door of the butcher’s shop being ripped off its hinges and thrown into the street, heard the flesh thrall stumble into the street after it. He slammed into the ladder, gripped the rungs and started climbing up as the flesh thrall let loose with another shriek and started barreling toward him. The ladder started to shake as he pulled himself up and onto the roof. Thinking quick, he kicked the top of the ladder as hard as he could and watched as it tipped backwards and fell, landing with a loud crash. The flesh thrall screamed, and Seonghwa took a moment to register that it was probably on the ladder when it fell before he was pushing up onto his feet again and running as fast as he could. The gate was in sight, and he started his way over an extra section of the scaffolding to reach the main part. He was halfway across when the structure started shaking, a familiar shriek ringing through the night. Seonghwa felt the urge to turn around, to see how close the flesh thrall was, but he forced his eyes forward, forced his legs to keep moving. 

_Don’t look back. Just run._

The scaffolding began to shake more, causing Seonghwa to sway a bit and almost lose his footing. He could see the roof it was attached to, almost within reach. Determined not to let Yunho’s sacrifice be in vain, Seonghwa took a deep breath and started running again. The scaffolding rattled beneath his footfalls, causing the whole structure to begin to shake unsteadily. He heard the metal framing groan in protest before starting to split and let go. Seonghwa focused on the ledge of the roof in front of him and jumped right as the scaffolding gave way beneath him. He reached the roof without trouble, stumbling slightly but remaining on his feet. The flesh thrall screamed again and he turned in time to see it fall, tangled amongst the twisted metal. 

Silence fell over the night as Seonghwa stared down into the darkness, his breath the only sound he could hear. He didn’t believe the flesh thrall was dead, not for a second, but he figured it was out of commission for a little while. He climbed down the gateway scaffolding slowly, so as not to topple that structure as well. As he climbed, the reality of what had happened slowly crept up on him. 

Hongjoong was dead. Yunho was dead. Yeosang was dying. Wooyoung was caught up in god knows what and Seonghwa was no better off. 

Once he reached the ground he wiped at his eyes, trying to clear his vision. He checked his bag, making sure the plasmatonic was still there, as well as the sticks of incense Yunho had given him. He did his best to keep his mind from wandering, but it was no use. Something Yunho had said was nagging at him. 

_You have something he wants. Something important._

_Don’t drop it._

Seonghwa reached into his pocket and pulled out the now crumpled photo from Jongho’s amulet. _This?_ He thought. _Is this what they’re after? All of this trouble for_ **_this_ ** _?_ He crumpled the picture up and dropped it, stomping on it and grinding it into the ground. “It’s a picture!” He yelled. “I don’t even know who it is! But if you want it so bad then fuck it! Find it yourself!” He ground it into the ground more, yelling more. Not words this time, just shouting and yelling and, eventually, sobbing. For the friends he’d lost, for the friends who he might still lose, for everyone who’d been pulled into The Coma’s bullshit. 

_I’m giving you a mission._

Seonghwa stopped, shut his eyes, and took a deep breath. He had a mission. He didn’t know what moon incense was, but he knew Yeosang would. The first step was getting to Yeosang and making sure he was ok, then he could worry about getting information out of him. He wiped more tears from his eyes, took another deep breath, and started back to the police station. After a moment he turned back and, reluctantly, picked up the photo and placed it back in his pocket. 

As he headed back, a flurry of thoughts began to nag at him once more. He never accepted Yunho’s apologies. Never told him he forgave him. Maybe he knew but...Seonghwa never _said_ it. Had he died thinking Seonghwa hated him? He hoped not. He could understand his frustration, especially if he'd thought Seonghwa was just screwing around and not being careful. And after Yunho had explained that the market was his favorite place, Seonghwa had gone ahead and put everyone there in danger. It was the least he could do, carrying out the mission he’d been given. Maybe that would serve as some sort of closure. He nodded, going over his new goal in his head. Save Yeosang. Find something called moon incense. Stop whatever a blood ritual was. If he found Taehoon while he was at it, tell him--Seonghwa frowned. Yunho had said he’d tried to find his brother in The Coma, and that his and Jongho’s situations were similar. He'd even asked Seonghwa to apologize to Jongho, as well. Did that mean… Seonghwa pulled out the small phone and dialed Yeosang, not wanting to wait until he was actually at the station to get an answer. The phone rang a few times before the line died. Frustrated, Seonghwa called him again. It rang a few times, then died. He was about to call a third time when he realized Yeosang probably wasn’t dodging his calls.

Yeosang wasn’t answering because he _couldn’t._

Seonghwa pocketed the phone, adjusted his bag on his shoulder, and started running. He prayed to anyone who would listen that Yeosang was ok, that he wasn’t too late. If anyone else died because of him...Seonghwa wasn’t sure what he’d do. 

He hoped against hope he wouldn’t have to find out.


	5. The Road Less Traveled

_10.13_

_Time is different here._

_I learned that first hand, the first time I was trapped here. I must have angered the shade of Sehwa University, that was the prevailing theory. I had pissed them off and, as punishment, I was to be trapped in The Coma’s version of Sehwa, until my body wasted away in the Waking World and my spirit simply...gave up._

_That’s what happens here, that’s even how some shades are made. They’re trapped in The Coma, separated from their bodies. Over time, they lose their names and, eventually, themselves. Once that happens, they wander for eternity, no purpose to direct their actions. Even The Noteman, who seems to be determined to chronicle every passing moment in The Coma, has no real compass to guide his actions._

_But for some reason, I didn’t lose myself. My body didn’t waste away, my spirit didn’t give up. And, eventually, I was able to break free. The shade was surprised, tried to have me killed with its "pet" but I even survived that. I got out of the university and found myself wandering The Coma alone._

_I don't know how long I wandered, looking for any sign of life that wasn't going to try to murder me on sight, I just know it was a **long** time. It got to a point where I thought I’d be willing to endure anything just to be able to talk to another person again but...the first time I saw Yeosang, I hid. I remembered our conversation, remembered how foolish I’d been, how I’d broken my promise and I just couldn’t bring myself to face him. After everything I’d been through, I thought I’d probably break if the only other person I saw in god knows how long was angry with me. _

_A silly thought, ultimately, because when I finally did gather up enough courage to face him, he just...hugged me. And cried. I was shocked, I’d never seen him like that before. He explained that he’d tried to find me at Sehwa but had only encountered the shade, who had told him I was gone. He’d taken that to mean I’d been killed or had lost myself. He’d never expected to run into me, had all but accepted that he’d failed to protect me. It was devastating, seeing him like that. He was always so confident and sure of himself but in that moment he seemed so...small. I learned after a while that I wasn’t the first person to stumble into The Coma and, had I been lost, I would not have been the first Yeosang ‘failed’ to protect. I could never get him to talk about the others but I could see that they all weighed on him heavily. I’d never seen so much pain in a person’s eyes before._

_Yeosang did eventually scold me (I knew I wasn’t going to be able to get away from it forever) but majority of that night was spent catching up, swapping survival stories and information, just...being. It was nice having someone else to talk to again._

_We stuck together for a while; I could tell Yeosang didn’t want to leave me alone, but I could also tell there were more important things he needed to attend to and I was getting in the way of that. It took some convincing, but I finally got him to agree that I’d been alright on my own so far, so I’d be alright on my own a while longer. We went our separate ways after that, with Yeosang making me promise I’d be ok. Seemed to me a pointless gesture; I knew I couldn’t keep it and I’d broken a promise to him once already. But it made him feel better so I figured, why not?_

_It turned out to be surprisingly easy to keep it. Once I was clear of the university, I saw very little of the shade and its pet. There were other dangers in The Coma, sure, but they were easy to manage and before long, I’d managed to set up some semblance of a life here. Yeosang and I crossed paths occasionally. Sometimes it was just him, sometimes he was with the others. They call themselves Ghost Vigilantes, which I try my best not to laugh at. They seem a serious bunch and don’t care for me much at all. Yeosang says I’m wrong, says they’re fine with me but I can tell. Something about me puts them on edge. They’re never really comfortable around me and I can tell Yeosang sees it, too. He’s different when it’s just us._

_With the others, things seem more...business-like? We talk about what we’ve encountered, what strange things we may have seen, things like that. It’s always information, information, information, always about The Coma and something called a blood ritual. They won't tell me more than that. I've tried to get them to trust me, tried to show them I'm their friend, not their enemy. I even tried asking them how they were once, but they just stared at me, like they didn’t know how to answer the question. I suppose it was a weird one to them. There aren’t good and bad days in The Coma for visitors, only bad._

_It’s different for those of us that live here. Maybe that’s what puts them on edge; I think it’s weird to them that I live here. I don’t know why they don’t act the same around Yeosang, though, they always seem to be fine with him. He’s never come out and said he lives here but I see him far more often than I see the others, and when I ask him how he’s been, he doesn’t look at me weird. He just answers. It’s not odd to him._

_That’s why it’s different when it’s just us. When it’s just the two of us, we catch up, we hang out...we’re friends, not business partners. I prefer being friends. I wish I could make the others see me that way, it’s so quiet here and so, so lonely. I wish I could go home like the others do. If only I hadn't lost that damn amulet._

_Yeosang's long since forgiven me for that, even gets upset with me when I berate myself for being so foolish. He has his secrets, sure, but he's a damn good friend and I'm thankful for him. Were it not for Yeosang, I probably would have given up eventually. He's even gone as far as to make sure he finds me on my birthday every year, without fail. We celebrated it together for the fourth time the other day._

_I’ve been here for four years somehow. That feels both impossible and possible at the same time. Sometimes I think I’ve only been in here for a few hours, other times it feels like it’s been decades. Yeosang said it hasn’t been nearly that long in the Waking World and I don’t know if that’s comforting or not._

_I hate it here. I want to go home._

_I ran into one of the ghost vigilantes recently, someone by the name of Hyung-bae. I’ve seen him with the group a few times but I’d never spoken to him before then. According to him, there’s a way for me to get out of here, even if I don’t find the relic that trapped me here in the first place. He hasn’t given me details, but for the first time in a while, I’m hopeful that I might actually get to leave this place._

_I haven’t told Yeosang yet. He knows The Coma better than anyone and he’s never mentioned another way out, so I’m sure he’ll be wary of whatever Hyung-bae is planning. If I’m being honest, I’m wary of it, too. But I want to at least hear him out. I really thought I was going to be stuck here forever and maybe that wouldn’t be so bad but...I miss home. I miss my friends and my parents...I even miss cleaning out the storage room with Wooyoung. It’s too quiet here, and I'm getting restless._

_Yeosang said writing things down might help but...this is all over the place, and it's only serving to make me more said. God, I hope Hyung-bae's right._

_I just want to go home._

_\- JH_

* * *

Seonghwa and Yeosang sat on the floor of the security room, both lost in their own thoughts. Yeosang had been in terrible shape when Seonghwa finally made it back and for a moment, Seonghwa thought he’d been too late. The other was breathing, though, so he set about getting him to drink the plasmatonic. It had taken a little while for it to take effect, even longer still for Seonghwa to recount everything that happened at the Dokkaebi Market. He still had a million questions, but after relaying everything to Yeosang, he just wanted to stop for a bit and breathe. Yunho’s sacrifice was still sinking in for him, and he’d yet to tell Yeosang about Hongjoong. Seonghwa was suddenly very, very tired and took the chance to rest while Yeosang healed up. 

“Yunho’s family has been tied to The Coma for generations.” Yeosang shifted slightly, his gaze fixed on a random part of the floor. “They’re one of the few that continued to push back the shades that attempted to cross into the Waking World. His ancestors passed down a great many abilities, including the ability to travel to and from The Coma without the use of a relic. Typically, that gift was passed down generation to generation, taking root in one family member until they were able to pass it onto the next.” He smiled a bit then, though at what Seonghwa wasn’t sure. “Taehoon was the oldest, so it was expected that he received the abilities. When it was discovered that Yunho also had them it was seen as...somewhat of a curse? Most of his family saw it - and him - as a bad omen. But not Taehoon, he thought it was cool. He was the one who brought Yunho to us, told us that if we helped train him, then we’d be twice as likely to stop the Blood Ritual. We weren’t really sure how we felt about the whole thing, but it turned out to be a bit of a blessing when Taehoon fell ill.” 

Seonghwa nodded. “So when Yunho said it wasn’t meant to be him…”

“Yeah. Stopping the Blood Ritual was always Taehoon’s destiny. Yunho had simply stepped up to take his place after everything went to hell. Kind of admirable, if you ask me. He didn’t have to, especially after his family treated him the way they did.” 

_You were just trying to help. Of course you were just trying to help._

Seonghwa clenched his hands into fists so tightly his fingernails began to dig into his palms. 

“You’re sure he’s dead?” Yeosang finally looked up then but Seonghwa wouldn’t meet his gaze. He couldn’t. He knew if he did, the tears he’d been struggling to hold back would break free, and he was afraid once he started he wouldn’t stop. Thankfully Yeosang seemed to understand, because he simply nodded and turned his attention elsewhere. “Yunho was our last and best chance at stopping the blood ritual,” he said. “But he wouldn’t have made that sacrifice for no reason. He must have figured something out, some way you can help us, some--”

While Yeosang spoke, Seonghwa dug in his pocket and pulled out the photo from the locket. He crumbled it up again and threw it at the other. “He said I had something someone wanted. I think maybe he meant the shade from the university, and the only thing I’ve had the whole time I’ve been here is that.” He watched out of the corner of his eye as Yeosang picked up the photo and did his best to smooth it. 

He studied it for a moment before looking at Seonghwa with a serious expression. “Where did you get this?”

“It was in the locket.” 

“What locket?”

“Jongho’s locket.” Yeosang was silent, so Seonghwa continued. “When Jongho passed out, he was holding this locket. The doctor found it and tried to give it to his parents, but they were beside themselves. They could barely focus long enough to hear what the doctor was saying, so I took it. I forgot about it until recently. The girl in the photo...she looks like one of the professors at Sehwa so I was going to give it back to her but I didn’t get the chance.” 

“Where’s the amulet?” 

Seonghwa laughed bitterly. “That’s what Wooyoung called it, too. An amulet.” He finally met Yeosang’s gaze. “Wooyoung has the amulet. I just have the photo.” 

“That’s how you got here,” Yeosang said, getting to his feet. He swayed a bit and Seonghwa jumped up to steady him, but Yeosang waved him off. “I’m fine,” he said. “But you’re right, this is what Brother’s after. The amulet is incomplete without it and without the amulet, the Blood Ritual can’t happen.” Yeosang smiled at Seonghwa. “We just have to hold on to this photo, if we do we may still be able to do this.” He handed the photo back to Seonghwa, who took it hesitantly. 

“No offense but...why don’t you just keep it?” 

Yeosang seemed not to have heard him. “Did Yunho say anything else?” 

“He said he didn’t realize Jongho’s situation was so much like his brother’s, and he was sorry for giving you a hard time about it.” He made a face. “He also asked me to apologize to Jongho, too? Is he here?” 

“That’s…” Yeosang frowned. “That’s complicated. What else did he tell you?” 

“Um...apologize to you, apologize to Jongho, he also said something about finding someone named Father Mingi but that was only if I couldn’t--”

“Mingi!” Yeosang shouted. He pulled out a phone similar to the one he’d given Seonghwa. “I completely forgot about him, he’s probably still at the hospital.” 

Seonghwa waited as Yeosang made a call. The conversation was short; Yeosang didn’t mention what had happened to Yunho, or the amulet, or the market or anything. He simply identified himself and asked the other person’s (Seonghwa assumed it was Mingi) location.

Once he hung up, he turned to Seonghwa with a big smile. “We’re in luck, he’s still at the hospital. He’ll be waiting for us, we should get going.” Yeosang began to gather his things into his bag.

Seonghwa watched for a moment, before something else Yunho had said dawned on him. “Oh!” He rummaged through his own bag a bit, pulling out the incense sticks Yunho had given him. “Yunho also told me to find something called moon incense...is that what this is?” 

Yeosang looked at him, puzzled. “That’s spectral incense,” he said. “He told you to find the Moon Incense? Really?” 

“Yeah. He said it was my mission or something. ‘Find some moon incense and use it to put an end to the Blood Ritual’. You’re sure it’s not this?”

Yeosang shook his head. “Not _some_ moon incense, _the_ Moon Incense. It’s a...you’re _sure_ he told _you_ to find it? He didn’t just say to help someone find it, he specifically told _you_ to find it?”

Seonghwa nodded. “Yeah, he told me to find it. Why?” 

“It’s just...maybe I’m remembering things wrong.” Yeosang thought for a moment. “Do you have any weird stories about your family? Have your parents or grandparents or anyone in your family experienced any strange phenomena?” 

Seonghwa placed the spectral incense back in his bag, shaking his head. “I don’t really have a big family, so no.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Seonghwa shrugged. “My dad doesn’t really talk to my aunts and uncles. I don’t really know why, I just know that he doesn’t like to talk to or about them, and as far as I know they’ve never really made an effort to reach out to him either.” He looked at Yeosang. “Why?”

“The Moon Incense is a weapon,” Yeosang finally said. “One that can only be used by someone who was born into the fold. Someone like Taehoon or Yunho.” 

It took a moment for Yeosang’s words to sink in, but once they did, Seonghwa could only stare. “Wait…” He gave his head a shake. “Wait wait wait…you think I...you think I’m like Yunho?” 

“No,” Yeosang said. “Not if this is your first time experiencing anything in The Coma. But Yunho must have thought you were. I don’t know what he’d have based that on, maybe it was just a gamble but...he was always very serious about this. If he told you to find the Moon Incense _and_ to use it...he must have seen something I can’t.” Yeosang sighed in frustration. “Taehoon was like that, too. Always seeing things no one else could, always just _knowing_ things.” 

Seonghwa didn’t miss the hitch in Yeosang’s voice, the way he spoke about both of the boys like old friends. He’d been quiet when Seonghwa relayed what had happened and Seonghwa had foolishly mistaken that silence for apathy. Now he wondered if Yeosang wasn’t just pushing his emotions away for the time being. Hadn’t Seonghwa himself done that earlier that evening? Hadn’t he forced himself to focus on literally anything other than the body he’d found at the school? Wasn’t that what he was doing now? “He…” Seonghwa thought hard about what he was going to say. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt Yeosang needed to know that Yunho had been worried about him. “Yunho, he seemed...like he was happy that you were going to be ok.” 

Yeosang smiled at him and nodded. 

“I feel bad, though,” Seonghwa said. “I never really got the chance to tell him about Hongjoong, and he--”

“What about Hongjoong?” Yeosang asked, genuinely curious. 

Seonghwa felt his stomach flip. “Oh.” He’d forgotten he hadn’t told him yet. “He...I found him. Or...his body...at Sehwa--”

“Hongjoong wasn’t at Sehwa tonight.” Yeosang looked at him, confused. “He wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near the school.”

Seonghwa groaned. “Look, all I know is I found a body at the school and Hongjoong’s ID badge was near it. And then that thing attacked me and I put two and two together. And before Yunho died he asked me to tell Hongjoong that he was sorry and it had never once occurred to me to tell him what had happ--”

“That’s good though.” Yeosang said quickly. “Those two...after Taehoon fell ill, Hongjoong kind of stepped into that older brother role. He and Taehoon were best friends, and he always saw Yunho as his responsibility after everything went down. It’s better that Yunho didn’t know. It would have crushed him.” He gave Seonghwa a reassuring smile. “I take it you knew Hongjoong?”

“Clearly not as well as I thought I did,” he said. “But, yeah. We were friends.” 

Yeosang placed a hand on Seonghwa’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m fairly certain you were mistaken.” Movement on one of the screens drew their attention away from the topic, and they both stepped closer to see what it was. Seonghwa immediately recognized the officer from earlier, apparently still on the hunt for his missing badge. Yeosang let out a sigh. “Oh thank god. I thought it was back already.” He looked at Seonghwa. “You said it has your name, right?” Seonghwa nodded. “Then we should move. It’s going to be able to find you easily now.” 

The two double checked to see that they had everything they needed before they headed out. Before they were completely out, however, Yeosang turned back quickly, hitting a button on the desk. “The gate,” he said when he’d rejoined Seonghwa. “It would have sucked to have to come all the way back just to open it.” 

They followed the same path Seonghwa had taken earlier in the night: down the ladder, through the jail cells, and down into the parking area. As they walked, Yeosang explained that they were headed for Sehwa Hospital, and the fastest way to get there was by subway. The nearest station was just east of the Dokkaebi Market, which meant they were going to have to keep their eyes peeled for the flesh thrall, as it would be doing everything within its power to find and kill Seonghwa. 

The walk was long and quiet, giving Seonghwa time to think everything over and get his thoughts in order. Yeosang had thrown a lot of information at him, and Seonghwa was becoming more and more aware of just how effortlessly Yeosang would dodge some of his questions. He also noticed how the other would dump a lot of information on him and just keep talking, without leaving any chance for Seonghwa to process the information and ask any follow-up questions. Even then, focusing as hard as he could, Seonghwa couldn’t recall all the information he’d been given. He knew Yeosang had given the Sehwa shade a name, but he couldn’t quite remember what it was. Nor could he remember what he’d said about whether or not Jongho was in The Coma. Had he confirmed it? Denied it? He wasn’t sure. And what was that question about his family all about? All he really knew was that Yeosang wasn’t telling him everything.

They reached the station after a while and they both frowned as they took in the stalled escalators. He wasn’t sure what was going through Yeosang’s mind, but Seonghwa figured it wasn’t too far off from what he, himself, was thinking: if the escalators weren’t moving, that meant the station didn’t have power. And if the station didn’t have power…

“Come on,” Yeosang said suddenly, starting down into the darkness. “We need to get off the street.” He looked over his shoulder at Seonghwa. “Stay close, remember what I said about the darkness here.” 

Seonghwa nodded and started down the steps as well, his eyes trained on Yeosang. He made sure to not fall too far behind, always making sure to be just a couple steps back at all times. The descent into the darkness was less frightning when he wasn't alone but there was still a brief moment when it became so suffocating, he almost reached out and grabbed onto Yeosang. He wasn't sure what the other could have done had the darkness fully consumed him as it had before, but at the very least he'd be able to know he wasn't alone. Interestingly enough, what ultimately stopped him from doing so was not his rational mind but rather, an _irrational_ part of him that was convinced his hand would go right through the other. If he was truly alone in the darkness, if Yeosang wasn't real, he did not want to know about it. Such a scenario implied far too many things that Seonghwa was not ready nor able to confront. 

When they reached the landing they were relieved to see there was at least _some_ power in the station; the lights that hung from the ceiling covered everything in a green-ish blue light. “Good,” Yeosang said after a bit. “We might be in luck. The Station Master is really strict, if we want to ride the subway we’ll need to pay.” 

Seonghwa swallowed hard. “I...the apothecary took all the hellion you gave me,” he said. 

“That’s fine,” Yeosang said. “The station only accepts T-money cards anyway. I can cover it, but if there’s no power…”

“Then there’s no way for the Station Master to accept payment,” Seonghwa finished. 

Yeosang nodded. “Yeah. Honestly, it’s not looking like fate’s on our side tonight, but we can hope. Come on.” Yeosang led the way through the station, down another stalled escalator, and ultimately to a large kiosk. Rows of turnstiles rested beyond it, and standing in front of them was a large figure. Judging by its uniform and hat, Seonghwa thought it was probably the Station Master. They seemed perfectly normal, but Seonghwa didn’t miss the dullness, the way they weren’t quite there. That, along with the fact that two deep, black cavities existed where its eyes should have been, convinced Seonghwa that they were dealing with yet another shade. He watched as the Station Master pulled out a pocket watch, checked the time, and placed it back in its pocket.

Seonghwa preferred to keep his distance, but Yeosang approached the figure easily, a large smile on his face. “Good evening, sir,” he said, the smile never faltering. “My friend and I are hoping to reach Sehwa Station, are the trains still running tonight?”

“Of course,” the Station Master said. His voice was distorted and gravelly, but for the most part the shade seemed to be in good spirits. “Riding the train from Songreung is the fastest and most reliable way to get there, so you’ve come to the right place.”

“You’re sure the subway trains are still running?” Seonghwa asked, looking around. “Everything looks...closed.” 

“Young man,” the Station Master said, looking slightly offended. “Songreung Station trains always run on time.” The figure seemed to flicker, causing Seonghwa to jump slightly. “We’re even prepared to handle just about every emergency imaginable AND with minimal impact on our schedule.”

“O-oh, ok.” Seonghwa smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be a bother.” He followed Yeosang as he approached one of the turnstiles and attempted to scan his card. Seonghwa watched him frown slightly, then try again. 

After a few more tries, Yeosang turned back to the Station Master, an embarrassed smile on his face. “Well, damn. I must have forgotten to top up. Any chance you could make an exception for us? Just for tonight?”

“No exceptions,” the Station Master said, his voice turning dark. “Everyone pays! Just top it up at one of the machines along the wall, that’s not so hard.” 

“Right…” Yeosang glanced over at the machines on the walls. Seonghwa followed his gaze, surprised to see all the screens blank. “Ok, we’ll do that.” 

Seonghwa followed Yeosang away from the Station Master, confused as to what was going on. “These machines,” he said. “They look...dead…”

“So are the turnstiles,” Yeosang said, frustrated. “I didn’t forget to top up my card, there’s plenty of money on it. There’s just no _power._ ” He ran his hands through his hair, clearly agitated. 

“Breathe,” Seonghwa said. “This is ok, we can fix this.”

“Maybe,” Yeosang said. “But you heard him. The trains always run on time. Whatever we do, we need to do it before the next train leaves.” 

“Why not just jump the turnstile?” 

“We’d never make it to the train. I told you, the Station Master is strict. He’s ok when you follow the rules but he’s still a shade, and he’s very dangerous. You’ve already got one flesh thrall after you, you can’t really risk having another.” 

Seonghwa gulped. “They can snap that fast?”

“Shades are dangerous. They don’t always seem it, but they are. They can turn on you before you can even think to apologize for upsetting them.” 

The image of Yunho hugging Mrs. Jang flashed briefly in Seonghwa's mind. Was Mrs. Jang really that dangerous? Yeosang had no reason to lie to him but neither did Yunho, and he'd thought that as long as a shade had a purpose, they were ok. But...maybe 'ok' wasn't the same as 'not dangerous'. He ran a hand through his hair, sick of how easily answers seemed to evade him. Still, it was better to focus on the problem at hand; he could ponder the goodness of shades later. “Ok so...that leaves us with…” Seonghwa sighed. “That leaves us with restoring power to the station.” 

Yeosang nodded. “Yep. And we have to do it fast.” He leaned his back against one of the machines, folding his arms across his chest as he began to think out loud. “Unfortunately, I don’t use the subway a lot, so I don’t know it well enough to--”

Seonghwa started at that. “You don't? Does that mean you have other transportation? Can we use that?” 

Yeosang looked at him, unimpressed. “If I had another form of transportation I wouldn’t have brought you here.” He shook his head. “No, I have an acquaintance who has other transportation but that’s not an option right now. What I was saying is, I know there’s a generator room upstairs, but I don’t know where exactly it is. As much as I hate to say it, we’re going to have to split up.”

“Ok,” Seonghwa said, not at all liking the idea but not seeing any other options. “So...you go right, I go left? We call if we find it?” Yeosang nodded. “Ok, ok...what’s it look like?” 

Yeosang once more looked at Seonghwa, seemingly unimpressed. “It’ll have a sign on the door that says ‘generator’.” He chuckled slightly. “You’ll probably have to find the control room first, though. Generator would likely be inside.” 

“See that’s what I’m asking,” Seonghwa said, rolling his eyes. “That’s the stuff I need to know. Is it in another room? Do I need a key?” He narrowed his gaze. “Is the apothecary an _actual_ dokkaebi? Stuff like that.” 

“I said I was sorry.” 

“Mmhmm.” Seonghwa checked the time on his phone out of habit, shaking his head when he remembered it was only really useful for the flashlight. “Ok, so. Upstairs, look for the generator room, call if you find it. Yes?” 

“Sounds good.” They started up the escalator, their footfalls echoing throughout the stillness of the station. When they reached the landing, Yeosang turned to Seonghwa one last time, his expression grave. “Keep an eye out for the flesh thrall. It’s been quiet, but that doesn’t mean it’s not still looking for you. If we’re lucky, it’s still buried under a bunch of scaffolding but that thing is resilient and it has your name. Don’t go dying on me, tutor.” 

“Yeah yeah...don’t get poisoned or something.” Yeosang laughed at that, throwing a wave over his shoulder as they parted ways. Seonghwa walked through the station quickly, making sure to check every door he passed. It wasn’t long before he reached the end of the corridor and found another escalator dropping down into the darkness below. He turned back for a second, trying to see if there was anything he’d missed, before taking a deep breath and once more heading down.

As he expected, the darkness was more suffocating when he was alone. Luckily, Seonghwa had gotten used to pushing it aside and continuing on. His steps faltered a bit, but for the most part he made it down to the next level with no problems. When he reached the landing, his attention was drawn to a door that was standing open a bit. Through the opening he could see a bright yellow light flashing on and off and could hear a weird alarm bell ringing from inside the room. He crossed to the door and pulled it open, the bright yellow light briefly blinding him as it flashed once more. Seonghwa stepped back a bit and covered his eyes with a hand before entering the room completely.

A large desk sat in the middle of the room, covered in papers. A computer monitor sat on the desk, but the screen was completely blank. The walls were lined with stacks of equipment; wires ran from various machines and there were more knobs and buttons than he’d ever seen in his entire life. One of these machines was the source of the flashing yellow light, as well as the alarm bell. The screen they were both coming from was blank, and Seonghwa wondered if the alarm had anything to do with the power being out. He attempted to check the papers on the desk for any sort of manual or directions on how to restart the large machines, but he found no such thing. 

Though the alarm bell was loud, the sound grating against Seonghwa’s ears, he still managed to jump when he heard a door slam somewhere else in the room. He spun around quickly, looking for the source of the sound, and saw another door near the end of the room. Beneath it, white light crept into the room. Cautiously, Seonghwa made his way over to the door and opened it, stepping into a long hallway. The alarm bell quieted as the door slammed shut behind him, once more causing Seonghwa to jump. 

The hall before him was long and dimly lit. The parallel wall was lined with what looked like old lockers, and along the wall behind him were a number of doors. About halfway down the hall, Seonghwa caught sight of a hooded figure. From where he stood, he couldn’t pick out many details, even when the figure looked up and, seemingly, stared _right at him._ They stared at each other for a moment before the door in front of the figure beeped and they disappeared inside the room. 

Something about the way the figure had stared at him had Seonghwa running in their direction before he even registered what he was doing. His feet pounded against the concrete, echoing again and again and making him cringe against the noise. His mind screamed at him to stop, to turn back, that it was dangerous and he knew that was the safest option. He also knew that the individual he'd seen was all too vibrant, all too _there,_ to just be an old subway shade. Whoever that was, they were definitely human. He managed to reach the door before the latch caught and pushed against it hard, swinging it open again. It slammed against the wall with a crash, causing the figure inside the room to jump and turn toward the sound. Seonghwa stood in the doorway, catching his breath and trying to figure out who they were. At first, he’d thought they were the person who’d saved him from Sehwa earlier in the evening, but the stature and clothing weren’t right. They were somewhat smaller and carried themselves differently. They wore tattered jeans, old shoes, and a large hoodie, the hood of which was pulled up and obscured most of their face. What wasn't covered by the hood was hidden behind a black mask, shrouding them in complete and total anonymity. At least _that_ tracked with the man in white, but somehow, Seonghwa knew it wasn't them. He knew it wasn’t Wooyoung, either; the other had moved through The Coma without feeling the need to obscure his face, Seonghwa couldn’t think of a reason he’d start now. 

“Seonghwa-hyung?” 

The voice ripped Seonghwa from his thoughts. It was a little muffled, but he was sure he recognized it. He couldn't quite place it, but the sound of it made a lump form in his throat and brought tears to his eyes. He watched as the figure took a couple steps toward him, tilting its head slightly as it stared at him, then finally removing its hood and mask so they could smile at him. 

Everything that had happened that night had been awful. It seemed like he’d only received bad news at every turn, and he’d felt hopeless and helpless on more than one occasion. He’d even begun to entertain the idea that he’d never leave The Coma and was doomed to roam its suffocating darkness forever. But, for the first time that night, real, genuine happiness bloomed in his chest as he stumbled forward and pulled the individual into his arms, embracing them tightly. Sobs shook his body as he clung to them, overjoyed that he had been so, _so_ wrong.

Hongjoong was _alive_.

To his credit, Hongjoong didn’t act nearly as surprised as Seonghwa thought he would. He laughed a little uneasily, but returned the embrace just the same. “I take it you haven’t exactly had an easy time tonight,” he said. 

Seonghwa shook his head.

Hongjoong laughed a little more easily at that. "Well, don't worry. You're not in any da--"

Seonghwa shook his head again, more aggressively this time, and tried to speak between sobs. “No...no I'm not...it's not because of this place. I thought…I thought you…” He pulled back a bit and wiped some of the tears away. More quickly replaced them and Seonghwa was having a hard time getting himself under control, but Hongjoong was patient enough. He led them to the far end of the room, to a bench that leaned against the wall. Once they were sitting, Seonghwa once more focused on trying to get himself under control. He dug through his bag, searching for Hongjoong’s ID badge. “I was at the s-school...I found a...body…” He pulled the ID badge out and handed it to Hongjoong. “And I...I found this...I thought…” 

Realization dawned on Hongjoong’s face as he took the ID badge, and he gave Seonghwa a comforting smile. “Oh. Well...I’m ok. I’m sure you can see that now.” Seonghwa nodded. “I’m sorry for scaring you like that.” 

“No it’s...it’s ok...it’s just…”

“Been a night, huh?” Seonghwa nodded and Hongjoong chuckled softly. “Yeah. I remember my first night here. It was hell. It’s hard to adjust, especially if you’re on your own.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m impressed you made it this far, though.” 

Seonghwa shook his head, wiping frantically at his eyes. “‘M not alone,” he finally said. “Yeosang’s here, too.” He stopped for a moment, thinking about everyone who’d helped him that night. “And...I have to tell you something. It’s about Y-Yunho.” 

His face must have said enough, because the smile dropped from Hongjoong’s face instantly. “What happened?” 

“I messed up,” Seonghwa said. “I’m so sorry, I messed up and Yunho tried to fix it.” So much for getting himself under control. “Yeosang said you two were close and...I’m so sorry, it’s my fault. I was the one who messed up, I--”

“What. Happened.” He repeated, his voice firm and demanding.

Seonghwa took a deep breath. "That thing that looks like Professor Song, the one from Sehwa, it was coming for me. Yunho held it back so I could get away." He covered his mouth as a loud sob escaped him. "I'm so sorry. He told me to be careful and I...it's my fault. I'm so sorry." 

"Yunho wouldn't have thrown his life away for no reason," Hongjoong said. "He knew how important he was to what we were trying to do." He grasped his hands tightly in his lap and locked eyes with Seonghwa. “He did what he thought was best for everyone. Whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault. I’m sure of it.” 

Seonghwa did his best not to sob as loudly as he had before. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I promise this isn’t your fault, hyung. He must have thought you were important to our cause, that’s the only reason he’d let his story end so abruptly.” An uncomfortable quiet settled between them, making Seonghwa's sobs sound even louder. After a while, Hongjoong sighed and smiled at Seonghwa as best he could. The sadness on his face was painfully apparent, but Seonghwa could tell he was doing his best to appear ok. “You, uh...said you were here with Yeosang? Really?” 

Seonghwa wanted to apologize again, wanted to tell Hongjoong it was ok to let himself be sad, but he decided it wasn't the best time. Instead, he just nodded. “We…” His eyes grew wide as he remembered why he was there. “We don’t have a lot of time, we’re supposed to catch the train to Sehwa Station.” He wiped at his eyes frantically, doing his best to clear his vision.

“Calm down,” Hongjoong said, laughing lightly. 

“I don't know how much time I've wasted--”

“Hyung--”

“The trains are always on time. How long were we here? We can't miss the train--”

“Ok but--”

“I have to find the generator room so we can--”

“Breathe!” Hongjoong grabbed both of Seonghwa’s shoulders and forced him to look at him. “If you’d let me speak,” he said, laughing a bit harder, “I’d be able to tell you that you’re _in_ the generator room.” 

“W...what?” Seonghwa looked around, finally spotting the large generator against one of the walls. “This is the…” He furrowed his brow. “What are you doing here?” 

“The same thing you are. Trying to get to Sehwa.” Hongjoong let go of Seonghwa and shrugged. “I was on my way there but the train needed to make a stop here and then just…” he snapped his fingers. “Died. I know how to restart everything, but I have to get power to the control room first so...here I am.” 

“Oh.” Seonghwa sat up straighter. “Oh! You know how to restart everything! Thank god, I couldn’t find a manual or anything.” 

Hongjoong cocked an eyebrow and did his best to hold back a laugh. “You thought you’d find a manual? Just...lying around?” 

Seonghwa shrugged. “I know how it seems but like...it’s been a weird night, you know? I get thoughts, like, ‘hey, maybe there’s a manual?’ and even though I know that’s ridiculous, weirder shit has happened. I’ve just kind of started rolling with the punches.” 

The two stood and Hongjoong led the way over to the generator, laughing even more. It was nice to be able to hear someone laugh, and Seonghwa was glad Hongjoong seemed to be the same in The Coma as he was in the Waking World. The familiarity was comforting.

“So,” Hongjoong said as he fiddled with the control panel, “what’s in Sehwa? Trying to get back to the university?” 

Seonghwa watched as he worked, not really able to make sense of what the other was doing. “No, we’re meeting up with someone named Mingi at Sehwa Hospital.” 

“Oh, that’s a good idea.” Hongjoong hit a few more buttons and the generator roared to life, causing Seonghwa to jump back slightly. “Without Yunho, Mingi’s our best bet at stopping everything.” 

Seonghwa nodded. “That’s what Yunho and Yeosang said. What about you?”

“Hmm?” Hongjoong tilted his head slightly. “Me?”

“Yeah. What business do you have in Sehwa.” 

Hongjoong opened his mouth to respond, closed it again, and pulled out his ID badge instead. “Well...for this, kind of.” He gave Seonghwa a weird smile. “I gave this to someone tonight. Yeosang asked me to look into something tonight but I had some things I wanted to check at Sehwa, too. I’d given this to our leader, Hyung-bae, so he could pick something up for me but…” 

“That must have been the body I saw,” Seonghwa said quietly. Hongjoong just nodded. “I’m sorry for your loss.” 

To Seonghwa’s surprise, a dark expression settled over Hongjoong. “Don’t be,” he said, shaking his head. “Hyung-bae was an asshole. I won’t go as far as to say I’m glad he’s dead but don’t feel inclined to waste your sympathy on _him._ ” He pocketed the ID badge and clapped his hands together. “Ok, well, we should get going.” 

Seonghwa followed him back into the corridor, wanting to ask more questions but ultimately deciding to keep them to himself for the time being. Once they were in the corridor, they noticed that the muffled alarm bells were gone, a strange voice having taken their place. Seonghwa couldn’t quite make out what was being said, but it looked like Hongjoong could because he frowned and looked in the direction of the control room. 

“That’s not right,” he said. He motioned for Seonghwa to follow him and the two started back down the corridor, Hongjoong tilting his head this way and that way, likely trying to hear the voice better. 

Seonghwa still couldn’t tell what the voice was saying but, as they neared the control room, he was able to distinguish it as a female voice. What was more, it seemed to be saying the same thing over and over, until the voice grew distorted and restarted. Seonghwa stopped, grabbed Hongjoong’s arm, and yanked him back. “Wait!”

Hongjoong stumbled back and turned to Seonghwa with a look of concern. “What? What’s wrong?”

“That voice,” he said, his eyes glued to the control room door. “When I said I messed up back at the Dokkaebi Market...what I meant was, I gave Mr. Dokkaebi my name and he gave it to...I don’t know who he gave it to but whoever it was, they have it now and they’re letting the Sehwa flesh thrall use it to track me down. That voice, it might be--”

“It’s not.” Hongjoong laughed lightly. “I get your concern and thanks for the head’s up, but that’s a station announcement. Listen.” They both listened for a moment, until the voice grew distorted again and restarted. Seonghwa frowned, shaking his head, and Hongjoong sighed. When the voice started again, Hongjoong spoke along with it. “All passengers evacuate immediately. A fire has been reported in the station. Please exit in a calm and orderly manner.” 

Seonghwa craned his neck to the side, focusing on the voice as best he could. When it next repeated, he was able to pick out exactly what Hongjoong had said. “That's a bit of a relief, then but a fire?” He asked. “Should we...be concerned?” 

Hongjoong crossed his arms and furrowed his brow. “I don’t really know? There are no signs of a fire, but there _was_ a fire here, years ago. People panicked and rushed to get off the trains and the platforms...a lot of people got stuck in the fire, others were trampled. Most of the shades here are from that. It’s possible this announcement is an echo of that fire, but...I’ve never seen this happen before.” 

Ice coursed through Seonghwa’s veins as a thought occurred to him. “If I wanted to get someone out in the open,” he said, “claiming there’s a fire would be a pretty good way to do it.” 

Hongjoong didn’t question him, merely nodded in agreement. “We should be careful.” He crossed the corridor to the lockers that lined the opposite wall, and pulled two of them open. “The...less bad news is, because of how poorly the station was equipped to deal with such a disaster, a bunch of measures were put in place to ensure such a thing not happen again. Including,” he turned and raised two odd looking contraptions above his head. “Making sure every staff member is assigned a gas mask.” He crossed back to join Seonghwa, tossing him one of the gas masks. “Here. Just in case.” 

Seonghwa did his best to put the mask in his bag before nodding at Hongjoong. The two of them made their way back to the control room and Seonghwa once more watched as Hongjoong set about resetting the system. For a brief second, the whole room went dark before whirring back to life. The announcement skipped a beat before resuming its message, but other than that it seemed everything was back to normal.

Hongjoong stared at one of the screens before turning to Seonghwa. “Where’s Yeosang? We should get down to the train platform as quickly as possible.” 

“I’ll call him, have him meet us there.” As they exited the control room, Seonghwa’s phone rang. Yeosang’s name flashed across the screen in pixelated letters. “I was just about to call yo--”

“The deal was, call when you find the generator. Not after you got things up and running.” 

“Sorry I--”

“How did you even know how to restart everything?”

“I didn’t. Hongjoong did it.” 

There was a pause. “I _told_ you!” Seonghwa could practically hear the smug smirk through the phone. 

“Yeah, yeah. We’re on our way down to the train platform. We’ll meet you there.”

Yeosang agreed and the line clicked dead. Seonghwa rolled his eyes as he pocketed the phone, his lips upturned in a fond smile. He and Hongjoong continued down to the platform, reaching it with no problems and no sign of the flesh thrall. Luckily, Hongjoong was able to cover Seonghwa and the older promised to pay him back once they were back home. Hongjoong tried his best to refuse, but Seonghwa was persistent, insisting it was the least he could do.

The two were still arguing about it as they boarded the train, neither one of them realizing Yeosang had yet to join them. They continued to bicker as the train pulled away from the platform, carrying them closer and closer to Sehwa Station. Seonghwa didn’t know how long they’d been on the train when an odd smell began to fill the car they were in. He tried to ignore it, choosing instead to keep trying to wear Hongjoong down and get him to accept his terms of repayment. After a while, though, the smell was so strong he could no longer ignore it, and he could tell by the look on Hongjoong’s face that he could smell it, too. 

“What the hell?” Hongjoong said, looking around. “What is that?” 

“I don’t know,” Seonghwa said, also looking around the train car for the first time. “Wait...where’s Yeosang?”

Hongjoong looked back at him with wide eyes but before he could answer, screams began to come from the car in front of theirs. They jumped to their feet and ran toward the door separating the cars. As Seonghwa worked to get the door open, he glanced through the the small viewing window and froze. Smoke was filling the car in front of them, though from what he had no idea. As the inhabitants struggled to get away, however, he was grimly aware of what had caused that horrible smell. Shades began to trip over each other in their panic, and those that had come from further down the train looked up at Seonghwa as their ‘flesh’ melted off of them. Hongjoong pushed his hands off the handle to keep him from opening it, instead pulling him away from the door and toward the other end of the car. As he was pulled back, however, Seonghwa’s eyes landed on one figure amidst the stampede of shades that was more vibrant than all the others. It took him too long to recognize the blue and white uniform, too long to recognize the blonde hair, too long to recognize the panicked eyes that finally, finally locked with his. 

“Shit,” Hongjoong hissed from behind him.

Seonghwa did his best to pull out of Hongjoong’s grasp, trying to get back to the door. “Yeo--” A shriek tore through the car, pulling Seonghwa’s attention away from the car in front of them. The car behind them was being consumed by flames that were rapidly crawling toward them. Thick, black smoke was already beginning to filter into the car and, in the middle of it all, Seonghwa could see the flesh thrall making its way toward them. “Her again?” 

Maybe it was because the flesh thrall was more angry now than it had been before, or maybe it was because he knew for a fact that it wasn't actually Professor Song, but whatever the reason it no longer appeared to be trying to hide the fact that it was a monster. It's long claws no longer resembled nails, it's skin was a sickly grey color, and it's dark hair was now thick, black tentacles that wrapped around its face and writhed around it as it approached.

“Gas mask!” Hongjoong yelled, pulling his own on before dropping out of sight. “Get close to the doors and hold on to something.”

Seonghwa scrambled to put his mask on. “What?”

“Do it!” 

Not wasting another second, Seonghwa jumped out of the aisle, grabbing onto one of the seats nearest the door. As he was there, the shades in their car began to fully panic, pushing against and tripping over each other. A few of them pushed against Seonghwa and he almost lost his footing, but he was relieved to be out of the main part of the mess. Hongjoong, however, was nowhere to be seen. Seonghwa did his best to try to find his friend, but his attempts were cut off as the train came to a screaming halt. Seonghwa’s body slammed against the seat, the corner of it digging painfully into his side. He was just gaining his footing again when Hongjoong appeared behind him and prompted him to help pry the door open. They did so and stumbled out, the smoke from the fire billowing out after them. They hit the ground hard and scrambled away from the door, keeping low as they made their way forward. They heard the flesh thrall cutting its way through the shades in the train, shrieking as it stumbled blindly from car to car. Hongjoong and Seonghwa shared a look, both seemingly thinking the same thing. 

_It didn’t see us get out._

They kept moving, doing their best to stay out of sight. Luckily, the train had come to a stop not far from the Sehwa Station platform, and the two were able to make their way out of the tunnels quickly. The entire way, Seonghwa kept an eye out for Yeosang, growing more and more distressed with every passing minute that he didn’t stumble upon the other. As the two climbed the steps out of the station, he could do nothing but hope against hope that Yeosang had made it out as well.


	6. Things Hoped For

_08.06_

_I was selected to enter the Catholic Priesthood when I was fairly young. My brothers and I knelt before the altar while the religious faithful sang the Litany of the Saints, and as the bishop placed his hands upon my head, a brilliant white light instantly blinded me. A peculiar calm overtook me, and I heard a voice that penetrated my very being. It spoke to me with a dignified tranquility: “Behold, she cometh with the shadows; and every eye shall see her, and all kindreds of the earth shall weep before her.”_

_I’ve told that story so many times now, I almost believe it. In reality, the entire thing was recited verbatim from an old journal I’d found. From what I could tell, it belonged to my great grandfather. A great man, according to my family, if not a little eccentric. My mother was convinced I was going to take after him, but I’d never felt any sort of higher calling. Never really felt like there was any sort of higher being in the universe._

_Still, she was so certain, and I didn’t want to take that away from her. So I went through the motions, followed the teachings of the church, did everything expected of me. And, when the time came for my Rite of Ordination, I lied. I knew no one else had seen the journal, was sure no one had heard the story before. Given the way my mother looked when I told her what had “happened”, I was right._

_Lie or not, I was instantly revered within our little community. As such, I’d taken it upon myself to get to know everyone who set foot within the church. One day, a young woman came in to speak with one of the priests. I was the only person in at that time and offered to wait with her, but she was desperate and began to confide in me instead. It was her belief that she was being punished by God for some unknown indiscretion. When I inquired as to why she believed this, she told me that her daughter had recently taken ill and, after overcoming that sickness, began to display aberrant behaviors. Her symptoms progressed more dramatically with each passing day and now sharing the same house frightened the woman. She never came out and said it, but I knew what her fear was._

_A malicious spirit had possessed her daughter._

_I’d read of such things happening, but had never found any concrete proof that any of the stories had been true. I suspected there was likely another explanation for the daughter’s erratic behavior but I was, admittedly, curious as well. If her daughter was in fact possessed, it could mean that the higher powers I’d seen no evidence of for my entire life somehow existed._

_I paid the family a visit later that week, speaking first with the parents. Her father informed me that they’d recently moved into the house but seemed to balk at my suggesting the move may have triggered some kind of psychological break that resulted in her behavior. Unlike his wife, he did not shy away from telling me he believed a foreign entity had overwhelmed his daughter and taken her place. After a few more questions, I asked to see his daughter. That’s when I saw the first traces of real terror in the man’s eyes._

_“It’s dangerous,” he told me. “It knows things. Be careful.”_

_The girl’s name was Joanna. I found her listlessly gazing out her window, ignoring me as I called out to her. Eventually, however, she slowly turned to me, looking at me with eyes that looked far too dark and old to be hers. The voice that came from her was low and distorted, clearly not her own._

_“You keep calling me that name. Have your lies caused your God to curse your eyes, preventing you to see?”_

_I was taken aback by the claim; it was the first time someone had accused me of lying. The thing that looked like Joanna rose and began to cross the room toward me. In that moment my fear betrayed me, causing me to stumble back and away. The being studied my face, her expression betraying a mild amusement. “You are here because this family asked for your help. But what faith do you have that can help these people? Did you hope to explain this away? How deliciously naive you are.”_

_The thought of Joanna’s family seemed to snap me out of my frightened daze. I stood taller then, demanding the being tell me whom I was addressing. I had little faith that I would get an answer, but to my surprise a smile flashed across her face. “My name is Umbra, for we are Shadows.”_

_It was then that I recalled the words from my grandfather’s journal: “Behold, she cometh with the shadows; and every eye shall see her, and all kindreds of the earth shall weep before her.”_

_The being revealed various facts about my life in a vulgar tirade, doing its best to belittle me. When I attempted to stand up to it again, it gripped my arm and threw me across the room. It was then I knew the power of this spirit and I left in haste to seek help. Though I still did not entirely believe, I knew my concerns were best brought directly to the bishop, who seemed unwavered by my story. He nodded in silent understanding and revealed that Joanna was beyond the remedy of a traditional exorcism, which only served to fuel my doubts. He went on to tell me of spirits unrelated to fallen angels, maligned beings from a shadow realm of our own creation. He gave me an old rosary, meant to serve as a relic that would somehow allow me to battle Umbra in this shadow realm. Doing so would be the only way to save the girl’s soul._

_Fortunately, I would not be alone. The bishop told me of a group known as the Ghost Vigilantes, individuals trained to handle such spirits. I was surprised the next day when the bishop introduced me to a small group of individuals, most of which appeared to be around my age. They didn’t look as scared as I’m sure I did, but they were nowhere near the seasoned professionals I’d expected to encounter. The oldest of the group, Hyung-bae, asked me to recount what I’d experienced. I told them everything, hesitating a bit as a recounted what the being had said about my life. I’d left out the part where she accused me of being a fraud, but it didn’t seem to matter. What seemed to matter most to them was the fact that the family had moved into a new house recently, and they asked to be taken there. Before we left, the bishop stopped me and handed me a vial of water. He called it the Holy Waters of Separation, and informed me it could only be used in the shadow realm. “Remember your teachings and perform the rite of exorcism. The Ghost Vigilantes will guide you...they know our ways.”_

_On the way to Joanna’s house, one of the Ghost Vigilantes got my attention. He was about my height, taller than the others but seemed to be the youngest of the group. He smiled at me brightly, asking if it was my first time traveling to the shadow realm. I said it was, and I was confused as to why the bishop was trusting me with such a mission when he seemed so much more capable and knowledgeable than me._

_“Because he’s a coward,” the other said. He was still smiling, but there was something in his voice that made me shiver. “He doesn’t want to face the creature so he’s sending you. But don’t worry, we’ve got you. Just...like he said, remember your teachings and per--”_

_“I don’t believe in any of this.” I’d never told anyone about my lack of faith, but if everything was riding on me I felt it was important to at least let them know._

_The other thought for a moment, then nodded. “I was wondering.” He smiled at me softly. “I’m not even supposed to be here, if my family knew I was getting involved in all of this they’d lose their minds.” He pointed to one of the others, his smile growing. “My brother’s the chosen one, this is his thing. He brought me into the fold. I’m not supposed to be here but that doesn’t matter to him. He believes I should be so...I am.”_

_We walked in silence for a moment, before he continued. “You believe Umbra is real, right?”_

_I nodded. My arm still bore the bruise from when she’d gripped me and thrown me across the room. That had not been Joanna acting out due to a psychological break, it had been something more. “Yes. I believe she is very real.”_

_“And what about us?” he asked, gesturing to the rest of the group. “Do you believe we have your back?” I nodded again. “Then believe in us. Don’t focus on your doubts about yourself or the existence of a higher power or whatever. Focus on what you believe in. Belief itself can be powerful, regardless of what you put that belief in.” We fell silent again after that, and I was thankful for it. He’d given me a lot to think about._

_We arrived at Joanna’s home around midnight. We’d let the family know ahead of time, so they met us and left as per Hyung-bae’s suggestion. Umbra was waiting for us, and it took great effort from three of us to restrain and bind the girl. The Ghost Vigilantes then set about meticulously searching the room, but for what I did not know. A hidden floorboard yielded what they were searching for - a small box containing an old signet ring. One of them identified it as a relic, much like the rosary I’d been given. She must have found it when they moved in and had no idea what it was. We were all instructed to close our eyes, and someone began to recite an invocation._

_When it finished, I opened my eyes and found myself...still in Joanna’s room. Upon closer examination, however, I realized it wasn’t quite right. The room had eroded into a dilapidated, grotesque version of itself, and the boy from before gave me that same bright smile. “Welcome to The Coma,” he said. I assumed that was the name they’d given the shadow realm. We turned to see Joanna, bound to the bed and screaming for help, the shadowy figure of Umbra crouched over her._

_For a moment, I was frozen. I knew I had to help the girl, but seeing Umbra like this, a separate entity, made me question everything I’d ever known. The creature was huge and seemed to be composed of pure darkness, and I suddenly felt very small and insignificant. Her words rang in my mind, causing my hands to shake. “What faith do you have to help these people?” None. I had none. I believed in nothing, and that lack of faith was going to cost that little girl her life. I remembered the Waters of Separation the priest had given me and had to hold back a laugh; what could water do to something like that?_

_I felt a hand grip my shoulder firmly and turned to see the boy from before staring at me fiercely. Beyond him, the Ghost Vigilantes looked on, all of their eyes urging me to step up and do something. It was clear to me then that they were there to get me to The Coma, and they would back me up as best they could, but the only one who was going to be able to save Joanna was me. Why had the bishop not sent someone else? Why had he been unable to see through my lies? Why had I lied in the first place?_

_I started to shake my head, but the grip on my shoulder only tightened. The boy narrowed his gaze, and all at once what he’d said to me earlier came back to me: Belief itself can be powerful, regardless of what you put that belief in. Something began to nag at me, my brain working quickly to put things together. The Ghost Vigilantes had followed me here, the bishop had sent me to take care of this problem...why? Why would a priest, even a legitimate one, matter in matters such as these? What power did they wield?_

_I looked at Umbra, towering over the girl, and something clicked. Belief itself can be powerful. So what did I believe? I believed that the Ghost Vigilantes thought I could help. I believed Umbra was real. And, as I pulled out the Waters of Separation, I believed that Umbra believed it could harm her. I began the rites of exorcism, my voice growing in volume and confidence as I watched her shudder away from my words, clearly surprised that they would have any power. I concluded with a prayer to some saint and dashed the water on Umbra, unable to keep from smiling as it fled screaming into the night. We made the journey back to the Waking World and Joanna rejoined her family._

_I thought that would be the end of my story with the Ghost Vigilantes, but that wasn’t the case. After that night, the Jeong brothers kept in constant contact, excited to know someone else who was ‘born into the fold’ as they put it. Through them, I was able to learn more about The Coma and, before long, was welcomed as part of their team._

_I still don’t know if I believe in a higher power, I still don’t know if there’s any real truth behind the things I was taught. But I do believe in them, in us. I believe there’s power in our unity, and I believe that power is feared. With it, I believe we can stop the Blood Ritual and prevent Brother from crossing into our world. As long as there’s us, I believe we’ll succeed._

_And that belief is powerful._

_\- MG_

“Ok, what the hell?” 

Seonghwa and Hongjoong stared at the lobby in front of them, their faces twisted in identical looks of confusion. Seonghwa turned back around, catching the door before it shut and poking his head out into the darkness. As expected, stairs rose out of that darkness, the same stairs they’d climbed to exit the subway tunnel. He turned back to the lobby, growing more confused by the second. 

“The subway tunnel is right there,” Seonghwa said, looking to Hongjoong for some kind of explanation. “It’s right there, and last I checked it didn’t empty out into the hospital lobby.” 

“No,” Hongjoong said, frowning. “This is wrong.” 

A loud ringing sound came from Seonghwa’s bag and the two jumped before Seonghwa scrambled to pull the phone out. “Hello?” 

“When you say you’re going to _meet_ someone on a train platform, maybe actually _meet_ them there?” 

Seonghwa smiled despite himself, relief washing over him briefly. “Yeosang,” he said. “You’re ok.” 

“Barely.” The line fell quiet for a moment before he added, “what about you?” 

“Hongjoong and I are both fine.”

Hongjoong gestured for Seonghwa to put the phone on speaker and he complied, holding the device out to the other. “The subway tunnel dumped us in the hospital basement.” 

Yeosang was quiet for a moment. “Shit. The Blood Ritual’s started. Mingi is on his way to me, you two should do the same. I’m on the first floor, near the--”

There was a loud noise on the other end of the line and what sounded like a struggle before the phone went dead. Hongjoong and Seonghwa shared a concerned look before Seonghwa tried to call Yeosang back. The line rang for a bit, then died. He tried again, but knew the result would be the same.

Hongjoong looked around quickly, spotting what look like a flight of stairs further down the lobby. “Come on,” he said, gesturing for Seonghwa to follow him as he headed in their direction. “We need to get upstairs and try to figure out what happened.” 

Seonghwa nodded and followed, doing his best to convince himself that Yeosang was fine, that Yeosang was _always_ fine. Sure, he’d almost died earlier in the evening but other than that, Yeosang was always fine. Seonghwa swallowed hard and quickened his pace, slowing to not get too far ahead of Hongjoong. 

Piecing together what had happened was fairly easy. Once they reached the landing, Seonghwa and Hongjoong froze, taking in the state of the floor before them. What was likely once a waiting area or lobby was now a complete wreck; chairs and tables were torn up and thrown around, and long, deep gouges were cut into the floors and walls. What few lights still worked hung from the ceiling in disarray, flickering on and off and causing the shadows in the room to dance around. In the center of the floor, not far from the landing, was what Seonghwa presumed was a receptionist’s desk. It seemed mostly intact, but a large dent adorned the front, and there looked to be some sort of dark substance on the floor around its base. 

“Please let that be shadows,” Seonghwa said. 

Hongjoong was already shaking his head as he approached the desk. “It’s not. But I don’t think it’s Yeosang’s.” 

“How can you be sure?” 

“I'm not.” Hongjoong met Seonghwa’s gaze. “I’m _hoping_.” 

Running a hand through his hair, Seonghwa did his best to push his concern to the back of his mind. “What...um...what do you think did that, then?” 

“I don’t know,” Hongjoong frowned. “My best guess would be the flesh thrall but…”

Seonghwa shook his head. “We would have heard it.” 

“Exactly. Maybe this is all old, maybe it has nothing to do with Yeosang, but something _did_ come for him.” 

Seonghwa pulled the old phone out again. “I could...try again? But I worry if he’s hiding then…”

Hongjoong nodded. “Our best bet is to contact Mingi, make sure he’s ok and let him know that Yeosang may be compromised.” He already had his phone to his ear, waiting for Mingi to pick up, so Seonghwa continued to look around as he waited.

Closer inspection of the gouges in the walls and floors seemed to support Hongjoong’s hypothesis; it was possible that all the damage had been done a while ago, and that whomever or whatever Yeosang encountered had nothing to do with the state in which they found the lobby. Still, what had made him end the call so abruptly? He seemed so serious about all the blood ritual business, what could have possibly taken his attention away from that? 

His thoughts were interrupted as Hongjoong clapped his hands together. “Ok,” he called. “Mingi’s going to meet us in Ward 1A which is...um…” 

Seonghwa pointed to a dimly lit sign above a door at the far end of the room. “That way.” 

Hongjoong turned, spotted the sign, and nodded. “Yeah. But first we need to find the chapel. Apparently Mingi left something there and he needs us to retrieve it.”

Seonghwa frowned. “He can’t get it?” 

Hongjoong chuckled. “We’re closer, and he’s busy with something else.” The exasperated look on Seonghwa’s face made Hongjoong laugh harder. “It won’t take long, come on. The chapel’s this way.” 

Seonghwa watched as Hongjoong headed _away_ from the door to Ward 1A, his shoulders slumping as he sighed. “Of course,” Seonghwa grumbled. “Of course it’s in the opposite direction.” 

That got the loudest laugh out of the other. “Come _on,_ hyung, it’ll be _fine._ ” He smiled. “I’ll protect you.” 

Seonghwa narrowed his gaze, fixing Hongjoong with a firm glare. “I’m not _scared,_ I’m _tired._ There’s a difference.” He narrowed his gaze further when Hongjoong pouted, clearly mocking him. “Fine.” He all but stomped after the other, hands shoved deep in his pockets and looking every bit like a large, disgruntled child. “But if _anything_ jumps out of the shadows, I’m tripping you.” 

Hongjoong just laughed yet again.

Getting to the chapel was surprisingly uneventful, despite the hospital deteriorating more and more the deeper in they ventured. The chapel itself was in a terrible state and they’d needed to use Seonghwa’s flashlight to even see anything, but the item was right where Mingi said it would be and they’d had no trouble finding it. Seonghwa felt more relaxed on the way back, going as far as bantering back and forth with Hongjoong. He’d found an abandoned teddy bear on the way to the chapel and didn’t think twice before picking it up. Hongjoong refused to let him be about the decision, continually teasing him despite the older boy explaining that it looked like it belonged to someone. In turn, Seonghwa began to nag at Hongjoong for dragging them all the way to the opposite end of the hospital for a vial of water, only growing more ‘irritated’ when Hongjoong explained it was _holy_ water, and very important to their mission. 

He supposed it was risky, but talking to Hongjoong like that, interacting with him, made every theory Seonghwa had about the other being in a cult seem very silly. Ever since they’d bumped into each other at the subway station, The Coma seemed somehow less overwhelming. Hongjoong wasn’t the first person he’d encountered in the shadow realm, but he had been the first one that Seonghwa considered a friend before that night, and it was reassuring to know Hongjoong considered him to be the same. 

Their laughter tapered off as Hongjoong pulled open the large door leading to the wing that housed ward 1A. The hallway was pitch black and a chilled draft blew out the now opened door, causing both of them to shiver. Seonghwa could hear dripping water somewhere in the hall but nothing else, and visibility was zero. 

“Uh,” Hongjoong started, shifting uncomfortably. “Mingi’s in there somewhere.” 

“Are you sure?” Seonghwa pulled out his phone and turned the flashlight on, frowning when the beam of light did little to illuminate the hallway. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s been in here for years.” 

“That’s how the whole Coma looks.” Hongjoong took a deep breath and stepped into the hallway. “Come on, the sooner we get moving, the sooner we find Mingi.” 

Seonghwa readjusted his bag and followed, yelping when the door slammed shut behind them. They paused a moment, allowing their eyes to adjust to the darkness, then Seonghwa directed the flashlight beam at the floor before them and they continued on again. Every now and then, Seonghwa would redirect the beam to check the signs and make sure they were still heading in the right direction, but for the most part, they kept their eyes trained to the floor. 

“Sorry,” Seonghwa said after a while, having bumped into Hongjoong for what felt like the millionth time. “I...when you get too far ahead I--”

“I know, it’s fine. The darkness is weird. I’m not even changing my pace, I think it’s just trying to separate us. We should stay close.” Something tugged on the strap of Seonghwa’s bag and he yelped again, his muscles tensing in preparation to sprint down the hallway. “It’s me!” Hongjoong said quickly, tightening his grip in case Seonghwa bolted anyway. “I just figure this’ll help us stay together.” 

“O-oh...right…” he gulped. “Good thinking.” 

“I think there’s something at the end of the hall, look.”

Seonghwa turned to looked down the hallway and, sure enough, there seemed to be a faint light a ways down. He couldn’t quite tell from where he was, but he thought someone was standing just outside the light’s reach. A shudder ran up his spine, causing him to swallow hard and grip his bag tightly. He glanced behind him, catching Hongjoong’s eye as the other nodded. 

_Good, he sees it too._

The two of them continued forward, stepping carefully and softly as they approached the light. The closer they got, the more sure they were that someone was there. Seonghwa felt Hongjoong tug lightly on his bag, no doubt tightening his grip. He felt like every sound they made was too loud; certainly his heartbeat could be heard echoing throughout the halls. 

“Did you get it?”

Seonghwa nearly jumped out of his skin when the figure spoke, his throat closing around any type of scream he’d wanted to emit. There was a slight yank on his bag - Hongjoong being startled as well, he was sure - and the reminder that his friend was there as well seemed to flip a switch in the older boy. He stood to his full height, rounding his shoulders and lifting his chin slightly. “ _You’re_ about to get it!” he snapped back. 

It was the hardest Hongjoong had laughed at him all night. Releasing Seonghwa’s bag and doubling over, hands on his knees, Hongjoong nearly _howled_ with laughter. “He...it’s...you said…” Hongjoong wiped at his eyes as he laughed, and Seonghwa realized the other was laughing so hard he was actually _crying._ “ _You’re about to get it,”_ he said in a mockingly deep voice, before doubling over once more and clutching his stomach. 

Seonghwa narrowed his gaze and turned back to the individual, somewhat surprised to see them smiling fondly as Hongjoong laughed. The figure was tall, almost as tall as Yunho, and wore a sort of uniform that looked similar to what Yeosang had been wearing. “Father Mingi, I take it?” 

Hongjoong laughed even harder at that, grabbing onto Seonghwa’s arm for balance as he stumbled forward. 

The figure narrowed his eyes as he fixed his gaze on Seonghwa. “You must have met Yunho already,” he said, his voice devoid of any humor. “Just Mingi is fine. Please.” He shifted his attention back to Hongjoong, that same fond smile returning. “Did you get it or not?” 

Hongjoong continued to laugh, shaking his head and waving as if to signal he was unable to speak, so Seonghwa answered for him. “If you mean the water, yeah. We got it.” 

“And...a...teddy...be--hEY!” Hongjoong flailed as Seonghwa pulled his arm away, causing the other to stumble forward. He caught himself but just barely, still laughing somewhat as he straightened up and attempted to get himself under control. 

“I was aware that Yeosang wouldn’t be joining us,” Mingi said, looking beyond the two of them in confusion. “But where’s Yunho? Did he not accompany you?” 

Hongjoong stopped laughing. He and Seonghwa exchanged a look before Hongjoong dropped his gaze and addressed Mingi. “Something happened. He’s not...Yunho can’t help us anymore.” 

“He said you need to move on to plan B,” Seonghwa added.

Hongjoong frowned. “Plan B? What’s plan B?” He turned to Mingi. “We have a plan B?” 

“ _I_ have a plan B,” Mingi corrected. 

“Why don’t we know about it?” 

“You didn’t know about it?” Seonghwa asked. Hongjoong shook his head. “But Yunho knew about it--”

“Yunho knew it existed. I told him _about_ it, but he didn’t know what it was. I’ve kept the details to myself, for good reason.” 

“Care to share with the class now?” 

“Wait,” Seonghwa said, placing a hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder. “First do you...have any questions? About what happened?” 

Mingi stared at Seonghwa, seeming to size him up, before turning his attention back to Hongjoong. “No.” He extended his hand. “The holy water.” 

Hongjoong handed it over, his expression unreadable. There was a tension between the two that Seonghwa couldn’t quite name but, if he’d had to guess, he’d say it had something to do with the fact that Mingi had had a secret plan that no one but Yunho knew about. “So,” Hongjoong said. “Plan B?” 

Mingi took the holy water and placed it in his pocket before turning to face the door before him. “Brother is attempting to cross into the waking world, correct?” Hongjoong nodded. “In order to do so, he’ll need a vessel. Plan B is...find the vessel before he does.” 

Something flashed in Hongjoong’s eyes at that. “And the vessel is here,” he said.

“Right above our heads,” Mingi added, nodding.

Hongjoong stepped up beside Mingi, also directing his attention to the door before them. Seonghwa studied them both for a minute before joining them. The doors in front of them were made of metal and closed tight. Near the top sat a series of glass numbers and, on the wall near Seonghwa, was a pair of buttons and what looked like a control panel. 

“Oh,” he said. “It’s an elevator.” He looked around the hallway, once more taking in the lack of lighting. “Does it...work?” 

“Yes,” Mingi said. “It’s one of the few things that still does. But you need a keycard to access it. I’ve checked most of the offices in this hallway but haven’t been able to find one.”

Hongjoong bent over slightly and examined the control panel, clicking his tongue as he concentrated. “I might be able to bypass this but…” He glanced over his shoulder at Mingi. “Are there any offices left to check on this floor?” 

“A few,” he said.

“Take Seonghwa and check them. I’ll do what I can but this’ll be easiest if we can get our hands on a keycard.” 

“Will you be alright alone?”

“Been alone most of the night,” Hongjoong said, smiling. “I’ll be fine. If you hear anything strange, come back. Ok?” 

Seonghwa nodded. “Be careful.” He and Mingi began to make their way back down the hallway, Seonghwa trailing a bit behind the other. “So…” he asked after a bit, “I’m pretty sure we passed a few stairwells, why not just use those to get to the upper levels?”

“They‘re blocked.” 

Seonghwa remembered the stairs at the police station and the school, and the blocked alleyway at the market. “Vines?” Mingi nodded. “What _are_ those?” 

“One of Brother’s snares. The stronger he grows, the more his influence spreads. Those vines are a physical manifestation of that influence.” 

“Brother?” Seonghwa had heard the name a few times that night, but he still didn't know to whom in referred. He did have an idea, however. “Is that the university’s shade?” 

Mingi nodded again. “He’s proven to be quite a problem. We’ve been fighting him for years, it seems. It’s all led to tonight. After tonight, this whole battle will be over, one way or the other.” 

“I’m assuming you mean the blood ritual?” 

“Yes. Whether it’s successful or not, this struggle _will_ end tonight.”

“We’re hoping for not successful, right?” Mingi gave him a look. “Just making sure I’m understanding correctly.” Seonghwa shrugged. “So you’re a priest?” 

“No.” 

Seonghwa stopped walking. “No? Why did Yunho call you Father then?”

“It’s a joke,” he said, shaking his head but smiling nonetheless. “One he thought was hilarious. I’m not a priest, but my weapon of choice is faith.” 

“I don’t…”

“Faith is a powerful weapon, regardless of what you put that faith in. I believe the things I enchant and bless have power and thus, they do.” 

“That’s...um...forgive me if I’m skeptical but…”

Mingi chuckled. “You’re forgiven. I thought it was bullshit, too. But I’ve seen enough now to know it’s true.” He stopped at a door and forced it open, the wood groaning and splintering as he threw himself against it. They both hastily covered their mouths and noses as a powerful stench all but slammed into them. “Every room here smells _awful_.” 

“What _is_ that?” Seonghwa asked as he followed Mingi into the room. 

“You don’t want to know.” 

Seonghwa tried to block out the stench and slowly swept the room with his flashlight. “What do the keycards look like anyway?” 

“They’re green. And they have little gold squares near the bottom.” 

Seonghwa nodded, not quite registering that Mingi hadn't been the one who answered him. “Like a chip?” A small giggle filled the room and Seonghwa froze, his eyes frantically searching for Mingi in the darkness. When he finally found the other, he was rummaging through some papers on a desk, not at all concerned by the giggle. “Please tell me you heard that?”

“Of course.” Mingi pointed across the room, at a small girl sitting down near the wall. “Yes, like a chip,” he added. “But she doesn’t know what those are, most likely.”

“I know what chips are!” The girl protested as Seonghwa illuminated her face. The light caught her for a moment before seeming to pass through her. He took in the sallowness of her skin, the way her form was nearly transparent and the way her voice was slightly distorted. “They’re my favorite snack!” 

“You’re a shade,” Seonghwa said, a deep sadness apparent in his voice. The little girl simply giggled and went back to what she was doing. Seonghwa swept the room with the light once more, this time more slowly, his heart sinking with every detail he uncovered. 

Dusty toy bins, rotting blocks, old peeling wallpaper that was no doubt bright and colorful once. They were in some sort of daycare or nursery. The little girl herself, despite clearly being a shade, looked to be no more than 6 or 7. Her hair was short and white, half-undone ribbons hung amongst the strands. Seonghwa tried to remind himself that shades weren’t ghosts, that the presence of the current one didn’t mean the little girl had died but Yunho had said shades were created from negative emotions experienced when they’ve been through ‘something’. Seonghwa didn’t want to know what the little girl had been through, but he hoped her counterpart in the Waking World was doing well. 

He watched the girl for a bit before reaching into his bag and pulling out the teddy bear. He crossed the room and knelt before her, smiling. “Hey so...I found this little guy all alone out in the hospital and it’s kind of scary out there... I can’t really take care of him, but I don’t want to leave him alone. Do you think you could take care of him for me?”

The little girl looked up and squealed, snatching the bear out of Seonghwa’s hands. “Teddy! You found teddy!” She hugged the bear tightly, then turned to Seonghwa and jumped at him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight embrace. “Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you!” 

“O-oh, you’re welcome. Is he yours?” She nodded emphatically, once more hugging the bear tight. “Well, I’m glad you have him back now. He looks like he missed you a lot.”

“That bad boy took him,” she said, frowning. “He took Teddy because he thought I told the nurses about his prank. It makes them so mad, and he got in a lot of trouble.” She looked at Seonghwa, her eyes glassy. “I didn’t tell them, though. The nurses scare me, I don’t like talking to them. I didn’t tell them.” 

Seonghwa wasn’t sure what to make of what the girl was saying. He’d seen a number of ‘wax’ nurses in the hall when they were looking for Mingi, but they hadn’t been moving. Was that something he’d need to look out for? He wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t the little girl’s problem. He patted her gently on the head and smiled once more. “Well, regardless, he’s back where he belongs. Hold onto him tightly now, ok?” 

The little girl nodded. “I will, thank you again!” 

Before he could respond, the phone in Seonghwa’s pocket began to ring, grabbing everyone’s attention. He glanced briefly at Hongjoong’s name on the screen before answering. “Did you get it open?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how long I can keep the doors open, though, you two should get back here quickly.”

Seonghwa nodded, gesturing to Mingi that they should head back. “Alright, we’re heading your way.” He thought to add that he’d found the teddy bear’s owner but decided to save it for when they were in the elevator, so he could see Hongjoong’s face when he told him. Seonghwa hung up, smiled one last time at the little girl, and followed Mingi out of the room. As they headed back, Seonghwa made it a point to illuminate the wax nurses one by one, but none of them seemed to be moving. He hoped that wouldn't change anytime soon.

They found Hongjoong standing half in the elevator, half out, his back pressed against one of the doors to keep them open. He smiled and waved at them when he saw them and motioned for them to enter the elevator once they were close enough. 

“That was fast,” Mingi said. 

“I’m good at what I do,” Hongjoong said, stepping inside and pressing one of the buttons. The elevator groaned and creaked, and for a second the occupants looked concerned that it wouldn’t move at all, but a few moments later the metal box lurched and they were on their way. 

“Found who the bear belonged to,” Seonghwa said, smiling smugly at Hongjoong, who gawked back at him in shock. 

“Seriously?” 

“Yeah. It was a little girl. Some boy had stolen it from her and hid it. She was very happy to have it back.” 

“Is that why you weren’t helping me look?” Mingi asked, promptly wiping the smile off of Seonghwa’s face.

“I...no, I was...I mean…” 

Hongjoong laughed loudly. “You know...we should recruit you. You make this place fun.” 

“I think that’s a compliment,” Seonghwa said. “But I think I’ll pass. One night here is plenty for me.”

Hongjoong laughed again, shaking his head. “You say that now, but once we get home I promise, Yunho won’t leave you alone.” An awkwardness settled in the elevator as Hongjoong’s statement sunk in for all of them. He cleared his throat, shifting his weight from foot to foot before speaking again. “Anyway, you’ve done well tonight.” 

The elevator lurched again as it came to a stop and Seonghwa all but ran out, needing desperately to be out of that atmosphere immediately. He paused in the hallway, looking around in confusion as a wave of deja vu washed over him. There was no reason for it; the lighting wasn’t much brighter in that hallway than it had been downstairs, and the entire place was just as old and dilapidated as the rest of the hospital but...there was just something so familiar about where Seonghwa stood.

As the elevator pinged and the doors slid shut, his mind filled in the blanks and mapped out the entire hallway for him. “Jongho’s here,” Seonghwa said, causing Mingi and Hongjoong to look at him.

“What?” Mingi asked. 

“Well, not _here_ but...this is his floor. In the Waking World. This is where his room is.” Seonghwa began to walk toward Jongho’s roomm, not even bothering with the flashlight. He knew the way. “And maybe...maybe he actually is here. Maybe…” And then he was running, hurrying down the hall as fast as his feet would carry him, caring not at all how loud his footfalls were, or that Hongjoong and Mingi were calling after him to stop. 

Once he reached the right room, he threw the door open with all the strength he could muster and stumbled in, heading straight for Jongho’s bed. Hongjoong and Mingi reached the room shortly after him, slightly out of breath from trying to catch up to him. 

“You can’t just run off like that,” Hongjoong snapped. “We don’t know what kind of dangers there are here!” 

Seonghwa ignored him, instead searching his pockets for his phone with shaking hands. He pulled it out, clicked on the flashlight, and shone the light on the bed before him. His face fell when he found it empty, but he wasn’t willing to give up. He grabbed the chart at the end of the bed and illuminated it, frown deepening once he spotted Jongho’s name. He swept the room with the light, stopping briefly at each bed and growing more and more frustrated with each one. Each one was the same, each one was empty.

Jongho wasn’t there. 

The beam of light dropped as Seonghwa let his shoulders slump, suddenly feeling very tired. “I thought he’d be here. Everyone...everyone made it seem like he was still alive. I thought…” He did his best to swallow past the lump in his throat, but it was no use. His vision began to blur slightly as tears gathered in his eyes and he wiped them away hastily. “I thought he’d be here.” 

“You know Jongho?” Mingi asked, genuinely surprised. 

“He was Jongho’s tutor,” Hongjoong said, placing a hand gently on Seonghwa’s shoulder. “Is that why you’re here? You were trying to find Jongho?” 

Seonghwa shook his head. “I got stuck here, by accident.” He wiped at his eyes again. “But...he’s my friend. And I thought…” 

“Jongho’s alive.” 

“Hyung...” 

“No, Mingi, he deserves to know. He’s alive, ok? Don’t worry about him, he’s resilient.” 

Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong. “I know he’s alive. But I’ve run into you and Yunho and Mr. Dokkaebi and Wooyoung and--”

“Wooyoung?” Hongjoong looked mildly alarmed. “Where did you run into Wooyoung? Does he know you’re here?” 

“Yes?” Seonghwa wiped at his eyes once more, growing irritated by the constant tears. “I already told you I ran into hi--”

“No, _here._ Does he know you’re at the hospital?” 

“We need to go,” Mingi said, looking far more panicked than Hongjoong.

“Wait what? Why?” Seonghwa looked between the two in confusion. “Why does it matter if Wooyoung knows I’m here?” 

“Jongho was supposed to be here,” Mingi said. “He was supposed to meet us here.” 

“He was?” Hongjoong and Seonghwa asked at the same time. 

“If he’s skipping out on our meeting without a warning, it means Wooyoung got to him. We’re all in danger, we need to go.”

“Wait, hold on—” Seonghwa didn’t like how suddenly everything shifted, and he was tired of being left in the dark. “What do you mean Wooyoung got to him? Is Jongho hurt?” 

“Wooyoung’s loyal to Brother,” Hongjoong said. “But I don’t understand what Jongho has to do with this? I thought we agreed to leave him out of this.” 

“We need to _go,_ ” Mingi said. “ _Now._ ” 

“Brother? As in the shade that’s trying to kill me?” Seonghwa shook his head. Wooyoung being loyal to Brother _would_ explain some of his actions but...there was no way. The Wooyoung Seonghwa knew would never hurt anyone, much less his _best friend_. “Wooyoung would never help someone like that.” 

“He doesn’t exactly ha—“

“ _Hyung._ ” 

Hongjoong glared at Mingi, exasperated. “Look, I get it. Only those who are in the fold. I know you’re trying to protect him but he’s in this now, ok? He needs to know what the fuck is going on. _That’s_ how we protect him now.” 

Seonghwa saw it first. As Hongjoong and Mingi continued to discuss god knew what, Seonghwa continued to look around the room for any sign of Jongho. As he did, the light from his flashlight caught on a large vine. He watched, eyes wide, as the vine seemed to grow in front of him, lifting itself off the ground and swaying from side to side as if...as if…

“Shut up!” Seonghwa hissed, his eyes still fixed on the vine. “It’s looking for us!” 

“What?” Hongjoong turned to Seonghwa, immediately taking in his expression and following his gaze across the room. Once he saw it, he gripped Mingi’s arm and gestured toward the vine.

The three of them stood as still as possible, watching as the vine began to flail back and forth, growing desperate in its search. It seemed limited in its abilities, likely only able to find its prey by touch, and this brought a small sense of comfort to the group. However, the vine was also blocking the door.

“We need to leave _._ ” Mingi braced himself, as if ready to charge for the door, and Seonghwa felt his blood run cold.

He grabbed Mingi’s shoulder and tugged him back a bit. “Don’t,” he whispered. “You won’t make it.” 

“We need to take our chances,” Mingi shot back. “Unless you want to wait around for Brother to show up.” 

“Obviously no one wants that,” Hongjoong said. “But Seonghwa’s right. We won’t make it past that thing. We’ll have to find another way out.” 

Seonghwa thought for a moment, then nodded. “This is room 403, right?” Hongjoong shrugged but Mingi nodded, raising an eyebrow as if to ask why that mattered. “Rooms 401 to 403 are conjoined,” he explained. “If this is a shadow of our world, then there should be another door…” Seonghwa swept the flashlight across the wall until it glinted off of a door handle on the far side. “There.” 

Mingi smiled wide and did a small fist pump. “Come on,” he said. “We should try to move as silently as possible. Who knows if that’s the only thing looking for us.” 

The other two nodded as they began to make their way across the room, creeping slowly between beds and over tipped carts, making sure not to catch anything under their feet. They were near the door, Hongjoong’s hand wrapped around the handle, when a loud ripping sound tore through the room. Seonghwa yelped, turning around quickly to identify the source of the sound. His eyes had barely time to adjust to the dim light before a hand clamped down over his nose and mouth and he was yanked backwards toward the now open door.

“ _Hold your breath,_ ” Mingi whispered, before turning him toward the door and shoving him through. 

Seonghwa would have gone sprawling were it not for Hongjoong catching him. They locked eyes for a brief moment before Hongjoong turned on his heels and began sprinting down the hallway, Seonghwa following close behind. He wanted to check and make sure that Mingi was following, wanted to ask Hongjoong what had happened, what was going on, but he was having a hard enough time just getting his legs to run. Each step felt heavier and more difficult than the last, like he was running through syrup. His throat suddenly felt very dry and his vision began to blur. He watched as Hongjoong pulled further and further away from him, unable to so much as call out to him to wait. He felt his legs give out and hit the ground hard, barely clinging to consciousness. He screamed after him in his mind, willing the other to hear him and turn around. Even as Hongjoong became nothing more than a dimly colored blur, Seonghwa tried to scream. He forced his hand to move, forced it to reach into his pocket and dig out the photo from the locket. He didn't know what was happening to him, but he knew the picture wasn't safe with him any longer. Seonghwa reached the photo toward Hongjoong, his mind screaming his name over and over even as he lost sight of him. Seonghwa’s eyes slid shut as the sound of approaching footsteps echoed around him. As he slipped from consciousness, he felt a hand on his own, folding his fingers over his palm and squeezing his fist tight. 

“Hold onto this just a little while longer.” Someone said, just before everything went dark.

Seonghwa jerked awake, his head pounding. He attempted to massage his temples, but something was keeping him from moving his arms from behind his back. It didn’t take long for him to realize he was bound to a chair. He could hear someone struggling behind him, pulling against their binds with growing frustration. “Mingi?” He asked, his voice hoarse. “Mingi, what happened? Where are we?”

“The morgue,” Mingi said, his voice just as hoarse as Seonghwa’s. “We were poisoned. Someone brought us here.” 

“Hongjoong?”

“I think he got away. He’s not here.” 

Well, at least there was that. Seonghwa struggled against his binds, surprised to feel his hands pull loose slightly. “Wait...wait! I think I ca--”

“You think you can...what? Undo a constrictor knot?” 

“You,” Mingi said, his voice low and angry. 

Seonghwa twisted his head as best he could, trying to see the other person in the room, but it didn’t matter if he could or not. He recognized the voice. 

“Jongho and I used to practice survival techniques when we were in grade school, I know how to tie all sorts of different knots. Bet you didn’t know that.” 

“Wooyoung?” Seonghwa continued to struggle, surprised yet again to feel the binds around his wrists slip a little more. “Wooyoung, let us go! I know you don’t want to hurt anyone!” 

“I really don’t,” Wooyoung said, moving slightly into Seonghwa’s view. “I really, really don’t...but tonight’s turned into a real shit show, hasn’t it, hyung?” He chuckled. “I have to admit, I never thought you of all people would turn out to be such a pain in the ass.” 

“Wooy--”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this!” Wooyoung snapped. “You were supposed to stay put in the Police Station! Instead...instead, you help Yeosang! Do you have any idea how difficult it was to ambush him? Do you?” 

Seonghwa said nothing. It was clear Wooyoung was angry, but it was odd...Seonghwa got the feeling the other wasn’t angry at _him,_ so to speak, just angry in general. 

“You caused havoc in the market and yeah, you took care of Yunho for me but at what cost? Now Mr. Dokkaebi's mixed up in this, too! And then, against all odds, you make it all the way here even after I sabotaged the trains. It’s like...like you can’t take a _hint_! But that’s not even the half of it...no, no, because then I find you conspiring with these monsters to hurt my best friend!” 

“Your best...Jongho?” The look on Wooyoung’s face told Seonghwa he was right. “Why would we hurt Jongho? We're trying to help him!”

Wooyoung studied Seonghwa for a moment before flashing him an odd smile. “You don’t know why the Ghost Vigilantes are here, do you?” 

“Look,” Seonghwa said, his voice low. “Whatever you think is going on...you’re just confused, ok? The Ghost Vigilantes are trying to help, they’re trying to stop Brother from crossing into our realm!” 

“Right, right,” Wooyoung said, nodding as he began to pace in front of Seonghwa. “You’re right, they’re just here to stop the big bad Shade, my mistake.” He nodded some more, seemingly considering something. “Though...without Yunho, you all probably had to resort to Plan B and destroy her vessel, right?” 

Seonghwa started to nod, then froze. No, that wasn't right. Plan B was just to _find_ the vessel...right? Mingi had grown quiet behind him; Seonghwa wasn’t sure exactly when that had happened but he didn’t like it. 

“Oh...oh wow, that's rich." Wooyoung turned his attention to Mingi. "You _lied_ to him?" He laughed bitterly, turning his attention back to Seonghwa. "Destroying the vessel is Plan B. Now, can you tell me why I might find that to be a problem? C'mon, you’re smart, hyung, I’m sure by now you’ve worked it out.” 

If Seonghwa was being honest, he’d worked it out pretty much the moment Wooyoung started talking about Plan B, he just hadn’t wanted to believe it. Still, it would explain why Mingi was the only person who knew what Plan B was. Hongjoong must have figured it out, too, when he realized Mingi was planning to meet Jongho. Did he know then what Plan B really was? Or had he also known all along? Had he been a fool to trust them?

Seonghwa gave his head a shake. There was no way; the night had been weird but there was no way these people were trying to kill Jongho, vessel or not. 

“You don’t believe me,” Wooyoung said after a while. “Fine. Ask your friend here. Ask him if they’re trying to kill Jongho. I bet he doesn’t answer.” 

“Mingi?” Seonghwa craned his neck to try to see the other. “It’s not true...right? You weren’t going to kill Jongho...right?” The silence he was met with was deafening. 

“And there you have it,” Wooyoung said. “You see, Jongho is what you would call a ‘cold soul’. Most people who get trapped in a place like the coma can’t make it through the first night without losing their minds. It leaves their bodies brain-dead in the Waking World. But Jongho’s special. He could be stuck here for all eternity and be absolutely fine. The catch is...that gift makes his body perfect for possession.” He fixed Seonghwa with a look he couldn’t quite read. “I'm sure you see me as some sort of monster--”

Seonghwa shook his head fervently. “No, I don’t, I just thi--”

“But I’m just trying to protect my friend, the way they should have. I mean really, what’s the point of the Ghost Vigilantes if you can’t help the people who need you the most?” He scoffed. “Anyway, when I told Jongho these guys were coming to kill him, he didn’t like that very much. Neither did I. I don’t want him to die, either. Which means _they_ have to.” 

“Wooyoung--”

“But enough of that!” Wooyoung clapped his hands together. “Don’t want to give you the chance to get the jump on me while I’m over here monologuing.” He pulled something out of his pocket and dangled it in front of Seonghwa’s face. “You recognize this?”

Seonghwa’s eyes followed the locket as it swung back and forth. 

“I need the rest of it. The picture’s the most important part; this thing is no good to Brother without it.” 

“So Hongjoong was right,” Seonghwa said, his voice bitter. “Your loyalties do lie with Brother.” 

Wooyoung rolled his eyes before beginning to dig through Seonghwa’s pockets. “My loyalties lie with whomever isn’t trying to kill my best friend.” 

“But possessing him...that’s better?” 

“I don’t expect you to understand, hyung.” 

They locked eyes for a moment and Seonghwa was certain Wooyoung was trying to tell him something with that look, but it was gone before he could even begin to theorize what it meant. 

“Huh,” Wooyoung said, resuming his search. “My old lighter...I was wondering where that got to.” 

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, confused. Wasn’t the lighter in his bag, if he even still had it at all? 

“Here it is!” Wooyoung pulled the picture out of Seonghwa’s pocket, holding it up triumphantly. “Good god, what did you do to it? It looks awful.” 

Seonghwa opened his mouth to respond but clicked it shut as he felt something cold press against his palm. Had Mingi passed him something? Was he aware that the Seonghwa’s binds were loose? He held the item tightly, doing his best to conceal it in his hand so Wooyoung wouldn’t see. 

“It’s still in one piece, though, I guess that’s all that matters. Tell you what, you can keep the lighter. Don’t say I never gave you anything!” Wooyoung placed the photo in the locket and shut it tight, shoving the whole thing in his pocket. “Anyway, I’m off to meet Brother at Sehwa University. He’s not exactly someone who likes to be kept waiting.” He began to leave before stopping and turning back to them abruptly. “Oh, right, one more thing. You’re gonna have some company pretty soon so...I’d say my prayers if I were you. Good luck, hyung.” 

The moment he was gone, Seonghwa began to turn the object over in his hand, feeling it to try to identify it. Something Wooyoung had said made him think…It was a long shot but...He heard the familiar click of the lighter opening, hope blooming in his chest. “Yes!” Thankfully, because his binds were loose, he was able to get it lit and maneuver it just right, positioning the flame so that it began to burn away the rope at his wrists.

“Yes what?” Mingi asked. 

The lights flickered above them before completely going out, but that didn’t matter. Seonghwa couldn’t really see what he was doing anyway. “I have the lighter, I think I can get my binds undone! Just be ready, ok? We’re going to need to run as soon as we’re free.” 

A familiar shriek tore through the air and Seonghwa jumped, almost dropping the lighter. 

“We’re not getting out of this alive,” Mingi said.

“Yes we are!” Seonghwa snapped. He winced slightly as the flame burned his wrists, but he could already feel the binds loosening further. “You said faith is powerful, right? No matter what that faith is in?” 

Another shriek, this one closer than the last. “Seonghwa…”

“Then have faith in me!” He nearly screamed. “I’m going to get us out of here and--”

“Seonghwa, listen to me.” 

“No!” Seonghwa had heard that tone of voice before, knew exactly what it meant. “No, _you_ listen to _me_. I may not be very happy with you right now and I trust you not at all but I’m not going to let you die here!” 

“Once you’re free, run.” 

“Once _we’re_ free.” The ropes gave a little more. 

“Don’t look back. Just run. I’ll distract it long enough for you to find someplace to hide. Once you’re clear of her, find Hongjoong and get to Sehwa University as soon as possible. Jongho will need your help.” 

“I swear to god, you and Yunho with your ‘don’t look backs’ and your ‘let me sacrifice myselfs’. No! We’re both getting ou--”

“If you try to save me Jongho dies.” 

Seonghwa fell silent, his hands still feverishly working to free themselves. 

“You have to choose, me or him. And I honestly believe he needs to live. He’s still just a kid, don’t let Brother do this to him.” 

“But--”

“When you’re free, run. Don’t look back. It’s up to you now; you have to save Jongho _and_ the Waking World.” 

“How?” 

“You’ll figure it out.” 

“ _How_?”

Something shattered behind Seonghwa and the room was filled with the flesh thrall’s screams. It must have cut itself on whatever broke, because Seonghwa could have sworn it was in pain. Maybe that would slow it down a bit. The ropes on his wrist let go with a small snap and for a moment, Seonghwa considered ignoring what Mingi said and freeing him anyway. But if it was really, truly down to him or Jongho… 

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa said, once more feeling tears gather at the corners of his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Mingi said. “Just win this thing.” 

And then Seonghwa was running, his footfalls echoing loudly in the halls but not loudly enough to drown out the screams behind him. His heart was racing and it was difficult to breathe through the tears that refused to be contained. A part of him wished he’d just let the flesh thrall get him at Sehwa, at least then Mingi and Yunho would probably be alive. But that wasn’t important at the moment; what he needed to do was focus. Find a hiding spot. Stay hidden until the flesh thrall passed. He clamped a hand over his mouth and slid to a halt as a lilting voice floated through the halls.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are…”

Seonghwa looked around frantically for a hiding place, the sound of the flesh thrall’s clicking heels growing louder and louder. He knew she wasn’t far behind him; he needed to get clear of the hallway, fast. Spotting a small alcove, he ran toward it, crouching down and out of sight, hoping the darkness was enough to hide him. He kept his hand clamped firmly over his mouth, the wet of his tears gathering on his fingers for a moment before they continued their journey over the back of his hand. 

“You can’t hide from me, darling, I’ve got your name! But if you come out now, I’ll end your pain quickly!” 

Seonghwa squeezed his eyes shut; she was so close! He did his best to quiet his sobs and slow his breathing, but he was having a hard time gauging if he was being quiet or not; most of his hearing was consumed by his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He heard the steps getting closer and closer. The flesh thrall was almost on him and he was certain she would find him, rendering everyone’s sacrifices useless. A small clattering sounded just down from where Seonghwa sat, drawing the flesh thrall’s attention. 

“There you are!” 

Before Seonghwa could react, something whizzed by him in a blur, racing down the hallway and luring the flesh thrall after it. He chanced a glance out from his hiding spot, seeing nothing in the hallway but a trail of blood. When he returned to his spot, he nearly screamed. The little girl from the daycare room sat right in front of him, her knees drawn up to her chest and her lips upturned in a wicked smile. In one hand, she held what looked like the controller to an RC car. She brought the other up to her face, pressing one finger to her lips, signaling for Seonghwa to keep quiet before giggling. 

“The nurses _hate_ that prank!” She whispered, causing Seonghwa to smile despite the situation.

He nodded in thanks before crawling from his hiding place and hurrying down the hall. A screech from deeper in the hospital let him know the flesh thrall had learned of the prank and was no doubt back on the hunt. He kept moving through the darkness, keeping an eye on the signs above him in an attempt to reorient himself. He came to a halt outside one room he’d never seen before, trying to quell the panic that was slowly growing within him. He didn’t know where he was, and if he didn’t know where he was he wouldn’t know how to get out, and if he couldn’t get ou--

Seonghwa screamed as a hand clamped over his mouth and yanked him backwards into darkness. He thrashed against the grip, hearing a door slam somewhere and realizing with increasingly growing panic that he had been pulled into a room. He fought harder, yelling against the stranger’s hand as loudly as he could.

“Stop it!” The stranger hissed. “It’ll hear you!” Seonghwa was twisted around and pushed against a wall that was out of sight of the door. The stranger’s hand was still clamped over his mouth, but once he was able to actually see them, the fight drained from him. “Don’t say a word, got it?” 

Seonghwa nodded. Outside, he could hear the flesh thrall’s clicking heels grow louder and louder and louder, before starting to fade away again. The creature had passed them, had somehow not managed to locate them despite having Seonghwa’s name. Once the halls were silent, the stranger removed their hand and retreated deeper into the room. 

“That’s twice now,” Seonghwa said, keeping his voice low. “You saved me back at Sehwa, too.” The figure in white said nothing, keeping their back to Seonghwa. “Who are you?” He asked. Still, the figure said nothing. “Please,” he said, his voice tinged with hope. “Please just say something. I think I know but I just...need to hear your voice again to be sure. Muffled or not. Just say _something._ ” 

The figure chuckled, finally turning to face Seonghwa. “You think you know?” 

Seonghwa nodded. He did. The voice was muffled but…

The figure reached up and removed its metallic mask, revealing a smile Seonghwa had begun to think he’d never see again. 

“You look like hell, hyung. I take it the Coma hasn’t been kind to you?” 

“Me?” Seonghwa laughed through fresh tears. “It hasn’t been kind to _me_? Look at you!” Seonghwa crossed the room, doing his best not to fuss too much over the other’s various cuts and bruises. Finally, he ruffled their hair, noticing how incredibly long it had become in such a short time. He met the other’s gaze, noticing for the first time the glassiness of their eyes. “It’s just...so unbelievably good to see you again, Jongho.” 

“It’s good to see you too, hyung. You have _no_ idea.” 

Seonghwa didn’t waste another minute before pulling the other into a tight embrace, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. When they finally pulled apart, it took everything within Seonghwa not to let loose with the hundreds of questions he had. He settled for the main one, needing to know finally what happened that night at Sehwa. “How did you get here? What happened?” 

“That…” Jongho chuckled. “That’s a long story.” 

“Something tells me we have a bit of time to kill,” Seonghwa said.

Jongho pulled out a chair, pushing it toward Seonghwa before grabbing one for himself and taking a seat. “Ok,” he said. “But remember, you asked.” 

Seonghwa nodded, taking a seat as well. He didn’t care how long it took, he just wanted answers. And for the first time that night, it looked like he was finally going to get some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this took so long! This was one of the harder chapters for me to write, despite it having the most detailed outline. But! Just three more chapters from here, and I expect those ones will go more quickly.


	7. Through The Looking Glass

_11.07_

_Taehoon would lose it if he knew I was finally doing this._

_I tried to hold out as long as possible, and I guess there’s something to be said for the fact that I’m the last one of us to actually start writing this shit down, but still...anyway, it can’t be helped._

_I suppose I should start from the beginning._

_Every one of us has a similar story about being born into the fold, about knowing our families were involved in some weird shit from a young age, but for me...well, it’s one thing to know you come from a long line of sorcerers or mages or whatever, and it’s another to find out your grandmother owns damn near the entire city._

_That’s not an exaggeration._

_When James Mott stepped down as board chair of the Sehwa Foundation, I was shocked to learn grandmother wasn’t only on the board, she was next in line to fill the seat, and was one of the founding members of the foundation itself. She’d had a hand in building both Sehwa hospital and the university, and it felt like I couldn’t go anywhere without someone recognizing me and asking me how she was doing. It was annoying, but it made getting into Sehwa University a breeze. I still had to work my ass off, don’t get me wrong, but when I applied there was no waiting to find out if I was in. My whole family had gone to Sehwa University, it was basically expected that I would, too._

_As I said, being the grandson of one of the most powerful people in Sehwa was - despite the advantages- annoying, but I never once got the idea that there was something odd about that power. Not until I met Professor Noh. I don’t think she ever meant for me to find out what she was researching, but once I did it was like she couldn’t stop herself from telling me everything. I adore Professor Noh, don’t get me wrong, but it’s always difficult to not look back at that and see just how much of an amateur she was at the whole business. I was related to the woman she was investigating and she told me literally_ **_everything._ ** _Maybe it wasn’t inexperience, maybe she just knew she could trust me. Maybe I’m just being cynical...it’s hard not to be after everything I’ve seen. But I worry about her saying too much to the wrong person. It’s become very clear to me that my family isn’t exactly safe._

_But I’m getting ahead of myself. To summarize what Professor Noh told me, shortly after she began working at Sehwa, she discovered something in regards to James Mott who, as well as serving as board chair at the Sehwa Foundation also sat as the University’s dean. What it was she found out, I don’t know. It’s the one thing she didn’t tell me. However, while looking for proof to hold over his head, Professor Noh discovered something far worse: about the university, about the foundation, about grandmother. The foundation was apparently lying to the public about where their money was going. A good amount of it was going exactly where they said it was, but a small portion of it was being used to fund what she could only tell was a small firm that dealt in the paranormal. She thought she’d figured the whole thing out, was going to blow the lid off the whole thing, and it took everything I had to get her to hold off for just a little bit so I could do more research on my own._

_Taehoon was actually the one who came to me about the Ghost Vigilantes and together we, along with Yunho, were able to fill in the holes in Professor Noh’s theory. Surprisingly, she hadn’t been far off. The Ghost Vigilantes_ **_did_ ** _deal in the paranormal, but it was so much more complex than that. Everything the Sehwa Foundation had its hands in tied back to the Ghost Vigilantes and The Coma. Everything. For a while, we believed the foundation was doing good work, similar to that of the Jeong family legacy. Taehoon even managed to find out that his own grandmother was one of the founding members of the Sehwa Foundation. I managed to convince Professor Noh that there was nothing to blow the lid off of, and things were fine._

_Then came Wooyoung and that cursed recorder._

_It was my fault, really. I should have recognized it, should have recognized the song, should have taken the sheet music and never, ever, should have taught him how to play it. Though, I’m sure he would have figured it out on his own eventually, he’s a smart kid. And he got such joy from it...it reminded me of my own love for music and maybe that clouded my judgement. By the time I realized what was happening and tried to put a stop to it, it was too late. Wooyoung was in too deep and there was little I could do to help him._

_But that recorder...I really should have recognized it. I grew up hearing about it; every picture of grandmother has that recorder, and my parents have always spoken of it with the reverence one usually reserves for deities. It’s such an important item to my whole family, so what the fuck was it doing in a box in an old storage room under the university? I asked my father about this once I realized the recorder was the same one, but he just...stared at me. Neither him nor my mother seemed fazed in the slightest when I told them someone else now had possession of it. I think that’s when I really started to feel like I couldn’t trust them._

_I spoke to Taehoon about joining the Ghost Vigilantes after that and, not surprisingly, I heard from grandmother shortly after. She didn’t mince her words, making it very clear to me that she did not approve of my joining. When I refused to respond to her, I got a call from my father. He, too, was upset about my choice and according to him my mother was furious. Though he sounded less angry than grandmother did, his words carried with them a hint of fear. Whether the fear was for me or of me, I don’t know. I managed to convince him that I was just curious, that I wanted to follow in grandmother’s footsteps. That only kept them at bay for a month or two, but by then I had proven myself useful enough to the Ghost Vigilantes that there was little they or grandmother could do to get rid of me._

_There was also little they could do to stop Professor Noh and me from digging deeper into the Ghost Vigilantes. I wasn't sure we would find anything, but Professor Noh had a knack for these sorts of things, and I knew if there was anything to find she'd be the one to find it. Turns out, I was right to put my trust in her. She was the first one to uncover details about the dark tetrad and how it tied into the great gnashing. I'd definitely heard of the blood ritual before, Taehoon had spoken at length of having been born to stop it. It was why he and Yunho had joined the Ghost Vigilantes to begin with. But the information Professor Noh was digging up about it...there was really only one way that I could make any of it make sense in my mind._

_I’ve never said this to anyone, or even out loud, because I was never sure if I was right or not. Now I’m confident I am, which really is why I’m writing this in the first place._

_Stopping the blood ritual was never the Ghost Vigilantes’ true purpose. To this day, I don’t think that’s the goal Hyung-bae has in mind. The idea started with Taehoon, and Yunho was the one who officially mentioned it after his brother fell ill. It was the first time I’d really seen Hyung-bae go after anyone with any real maliciousness and I’m glad Mingi and I were there to stop him from doing any real harm. I don’t know if he intended to hurt Yunho but either way, it was the last time the two spoke. I made sure of it. I also made sure that most of our plans were discussed without Hyung-bae present...I just don’t trust him anymore._

_He’s been splitting us up lately, giving us separate assignments far away from each other. And grandmother’s been taking more of an interest in me recently, constantly wanting to talk about what we’ve discovered. She’s been careful not to give too much away, but I think she’s even been asking about Jongho. How she knows about all of that business is beyond me but...there’s something very wrong with all of this, on multiple levels. It feels like there are two opposing forces at work here, pushing and pulling against each other and we’re stuck in the middle. There have been too many accidents, too many coincidences. I don’t know what the right course of action is anymore but I can’t stomach the idea of letting that shade cross into our world. I’ve seen what it can do in its own. So, we've decided to move forward with our plans of stopping the blood ritual. If we have to do it without Hyung-bae, so be it. The others are plenty capable, I've seen them at work._

_One thing bothers me, though. We’re strong together, but it feels like we’re not complete, like something’s missing. I’ve felt it for a while. The final blood moon is only a few months away and we’re running out of time._

_I hope we find the missing piece soon, I have a feeling we’re really going to need it._

_\- HJ_

  
  
  
  


“And that basically brings us to today,” Jongho said, sitting back. 

Seonghwa stared at the other, shocked by all he’d heard. Had Jongho really been stuck in the Coma for years? It hadn’t nearly been that long in the Waking World but...looking at him, seeing the dark circles under his eyes and the length of his hair, it was clear Jongho had been through a lot. After everything he’d said, Seonghwa couldn’t believe Jongho was still able to smile. And he spoke of his trials with such ease, as if it was just something he’d grown used to. Seonghwa knew better, though. The boy’s smile was bright but it didn’t reach his eyes. Those were dull, void of any of the spark Seonghwa was used to there. Cold soul or not, Jongho had been completely beaten down by The Coma. “So you’ve just...been here? Alone? For years?”

“Not alone,” Jongho said. “Not always, at least. I’ve got friends...or rather, I have a friend. And I see Wooyoung from time to time.” 

Seonghwa sat up. That was an odd way to word that...weren't he and Wooyoung friends? “How...how does Wooyoung seem to you? When you see him?”

Jongho thought for a moment. “Scared? And sad. But that makes sense, he hates it here.” The look on Seonghwa’s face must have been easy to read, because Jongho tilted his head slightly and raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

“It’s just…” Seonghwa folded his arms and fixed his gaze on the floor as he thought back to his most recent interaction with Wooyoung. He’d run as soon as he was free but now that he’d had the chance… “Wooyoung is loyal to Brother.”

“He doesn’t exactly have a choice in the matter,” Jongho said. He hadn't raised his voice, but there was a shortness to his words that hadn't been there prior. 

Seonghwa glanced up then, surprised at how cold and angry the other looked and sounded. “I think Hongjoong started to say something like that, too,” he said cautiously. “That he didn’t have a choice. What does that mean? Why doesn’t he have a choice?” 

Jongho ignored the question in favor of his own. “You know Hongjoong?” He eyed Seonghwa with suspicion. “Are you one of them? Is that why you’re here?” He was up and out of his chair in a moment, sliding it between him and Seonghwa in a single, fluid moment. “You’re a ghost vigilante, aren’t you?” 

“No,” Seonghwa said. Then, with more urgency, “ _N_ _o._ I‘m not here to hurt you, Jongho, or Wooyoung for that matter. I just want to know what’s going on.” Seonghwa shifted quickly, swinging his bag in front of him so he could rummage through it. He decided a slight shift in topic might be the best option for the time being. “Look...ok...Wooyoung...every time I’ve run into him he’s...does he give you mixed signals?” 

“What?” Jongho leaned forward slightly, his confusion causing him to drop his guard a bit. “No. He’s just Wooyoung. He’s busy but...he’s just Wooyoung.”

“Every time....dammit, where is it??? Every time I’ve seen him to-AH HA!” He held something up triumphantly, releasing the bag and letting it swing down by his side at the same time. “Every time I’ve seen him tonight, he’s been weird. Helpful, but not. He locked me in the police station to keep me safe, I think, but as a result I almost got eaten by that flesh thrall from Sehwa Uni--”

“Dark Song,” Jongho said, nodding. “That’s what I call her. When she’s not all glitched out she looks a lot like Professor Song. Sounds like her, too. But you know that already, she was pretty chill when I pulled you out of that parking garage. Well...chill for someone who was trying to kill you, I guess.” Something changed on Jongho’s face then, and Seonghwa could tell he wanted to ask something but decided to hold it back for the time being. 

“Yeah. So, Dark Song almost ate me. But I got out, and then I run into Wooyoung again here and he’s all evil and ominous and monologuing and I could believe he really has sworn his loyalty to Brother. But...but then he…” Seonghwa held out the object he’d pulled from the bag. “You were Wooyoung’s best friend. You should recognize this.” 

Jongho glanced at the object, knowing instantly what he was looking at. “That’s his lighter.”

Seonghwa didn't miss how Jongho didn't correct him. “Yeah. I found it next to me when I woke up in the Coma for the first time. I assumed he just dropped it when he stole the amulet but...I think he gave it to me, if that makes sense?”

“He would have known you wouldn’t get very far without some kind of light,” Jongho said, nodding once more. 

“Exactly. But then...why steal the only way I have of getting back home? Why trap me here, with zero idea of where I am or what dangers await me?” Seonghwa folded his arms. “But then I remembered, the Ghost Vigilantes found me after he stole the amulet, maybe he thought they’d help me?” 

A sound left Jongho then that sounded suspiciously like a scoff. “They don’t really do outsiders.” The bitterness in his voice once again caught Seonghwa off guard, but he continued on.

“Exactly. They just left me there, and I had to stumble through the halls on my own. That’s how I ran into Dark Song and, luckily, you. You dropped me at the police station, where I met Wooyoung again.”

There it was, that same look Jongho had had earlier. Seonghwa was sure the younger boy wanted to ask him something, but once again he bit it back. 

“He seemed surprised when he saw me, but maybe that was because he didn’t expect me to be alone. I don’t know. And then he locked me in the police station for my own safety, which would have worked out just fine if Dark Song hadn’t broken in and tried to ki--”

That look flashed on Jongho’s face a third time, and this time he didn’t hold his question back. “What happened to Yeosang?” 

“What?” 

“Yeosang?” Jongho stood up straight, holding one of his hands up. “About this tall? Blonde hair? He lo--”

“I know who Yeosang is,” Seonghwa said. “How did you know he was at the police station?”

“Because that’s why I left you there,” Jongho said. It was clear he was doing his best not to panic, but he was gradually speaking faster and faster. “I knew if anyone could get you out of the coma in one piece, he could. I knew he’d recognize you and help you because--"

_He speaks so highly of you, I couldn’t just let you die!_

_You said you were his friend, you lied._

_I did_ not _lie._

“Because he’s your friend!” Seonghwa laughed, running his hands over his face. “That _asshole_!”

“Hyung.” 

“He knew! He was so flippant every time I asked him, but he knew!”

“Hyung.” 

“What the hell is that guy’s problem? I asked him so many times, point blank, ‘is Jongho here’ and he--”

“ _Seonghwa-hyung._ ” 

Seonghwa turned to Jongho, surprised to see a confused, worried look on his face. “Yeah?”

“What. Happened. To Yeosang?” Jongho swallowed hard. “What did Wooyoung do?” 

“How--”

“Because they hate each other! And Wooyoung had no business being there unless he was after him! _What did he do?_ ” 

“Yeosang’s alive--”

“AAAAH!” Jongho looked like he was going to pull his hair out. He kicked the chair in front of him - hard - before forcing himself to take a deep breath and calm down. “I know,” he finally said. “I know he’s alive. I asked if he was _ok_ .” Seongwha looked at him, confused, and Jongho sighed. “Yeosang is an amazing friend, but he’s terrible when it comes to taking care of _himself._ He doesn’t tell me when he’s hurt, and when Wooyoung and Yeosang go at it, it’s scary. They really hate each other, hyung. Please just tell me, is Yeosang hurt?” 

“He’s ok. He was poisoned,” Seonghwa said, holding a hand up when Jongho started to respond. “With eldritch venom. But I got him the antidote. He’s fine. Grumpy, but fine.”

Jongho sighed again, this time out of relief, and shook his head. “He’s not grumpy,” he said after a moment. “He’s stressed. He’s always stressed when the moon is full and this one is especially bad.” Jongho smiled at him then and, for the first time since they’d been reunited, it reached his eyes. “Thank you,” he said. “For helping him, I mean.” He dropped his gaze. “Do you think...did Woo poison him? I know I said they hated each other but eldritch venom is...he could have died.” 

Seonghwa nodded. “He got mad at me for helping him, asked me if I knew how hard it had been to get the jump on him. I have no doubt that Wooyoung poisoned him…” Seonghwa dug in his pocket and pulled out another small object. “But the only reason I found him to begin with was because Wooyoung locked me in the police station so…”

“You think Wooyoung locked you in there so you’d find him?” 

Seonghwa shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s possible?”

“It would make the most sense. They hate each other but Woo’s not a murderer.” Jongho frowned. “I wish I’d known about this when Yeosang was here, I--”

“You saw him?” 

“I told you I knew he was alive,” Jongho said. “I spoke to him earlier this evening.” He studied Seonghwa’s face for a moment. “Were you looking for him or something?” 

“We were supposed to meet him here but something happened. He got attacked in the lobby and--”

Jongho laughed loudly. “He got _hugged_ ,” he said. “It’s been a while since we crossed paths last, I was excited to see him. Didn’t realize he was on the phone until he’d hung up. I’m assuming you were on the other end of the call?” 

Seonghwa just blinked. This whole time they’d thought he’d been attacked when really, it had been Jongho? His blood ran cold as his concern once more turned to anger. He hadn't known Yeosang that long, but in the short time they had known each other they'd managed to piss each other off more times than Seonghwa could count. “So not only was he not attacked, he was with _you_ , knowing full well I’ve been looking for you all night?”

“Hyung, he--” 

“He’s refused to answer any questions about you, refused to tell me if you were alive or dead, refused to tell me where you _were_ , and now he skipped out on our meeting to...what? Hang out?”

Jongho sighed loudly. “No, he was scolding me.” 

Well that wasn't what Seonhgwa had expected to hear. “What?”

“You guys were meeting Mingi, right? He’s a ghost vigilante.”

“Yeah..." Seonghwa thought for a moment. "...but Yeosang is, too, isn’t he?” 

Jongho glared at him in defiance. “Sang isn’t like them.”

Seonghwa held his hands up. “I wasn’t saying he was any kind of way, you just...you say ghost vigilante like it’s a bad thing.”

“Because they’re assholes.” 

Seonghwa thought of Yunho and how he treated Mrs. Jang, he thought of Hongjoong and how willing he’d been to help him, of how Mingi had told him to run and save himself. “They’re not assholes, they just--”

“Agree to disagree," he said. "The point is, I'd been working with their leader to find a way to get me home without the amulet, and when Yeosang found out about that, he got upset. Told me to stay away from them.” 

“He doesn’t want you to leave The Coma?”

“Of course he does,” Jongho said, rolling his eyes. “But he doesn’t trust them. He said he’s never heard of any other way to get out of The Coma, that if Hyung-bae says he found one but didn’t tell Yeosang then it’s probably a lie.” 

“That’s...probably a good assumption.”

Jongho nodded absently. “Sang’s good at judging stuff like that so I tend to trust him.”

“But you were going to meet up with Mingi tonight.” 

Jongho dropped his gaze in a rush, seemingly ashamed. “I _tend_ to trust him. But I...I really want to go home, hyung. I’ve been here for so long.” Jongho wiped at his face hurriedly. “I thought maybe he was just being paranoid. After all, Yeosang works with Hyung-bae, why would he work with someone I couldn't trust?" He wiped at his face again, and Seonghwa realized the boy was trying to keep from crying. "Yeosang said he was meeting Mingi and I wasn’t thinking, I said 'so am I' and he got mad. He scolded me and we argued and he left in a hurry. He said I didn’t trust him.” When he looked at Seonghwa, Jongho’s eyes were glassy. “I just want to go home, I didn’t mean to…I _do_ trust him, I just…”

“I understand,” Seonghwa said, giving him a small smile. “And I know Yeosang does, too. I...doesn’t it seem weird that Hyung-bae found a way to get you home but didn’t tell Yeosang about it? And then when you decide to talk to them about it they wait until the night of the blood moon to meet with you?” 

Jongho nodded slowly. “Yes. That’s why I was trying to meet with Mingi, I told him it was about going home, but really I just had some questions for him. Wooyoung told me something unsettling and I wanted to hear from him whether it was true or not. Mingi isn’t great at lying.” 

Seonghwa remembered Wooyoung accusing Mingi of wanting to kill Jongho, remembered Mingi’s silence on the matter. He dropped his gaze.

Jongho studied him a moment, before nodding. “So it’s true? They’re trying to kill me?” Seonghwa nodded. “Wow. Why? What’d I do?” Jongho frowned. “They know me, they know I’m not a threat!” 

“It’s less about you being a threat and more about you being a host. Apparently Brother needs to possess a body in order to cross into the waking world and since you’re a cold soul, you’re at the top of the list of candidates.” 

“And if you kill me here, my body ceases to be an option.” Jongho glared at Seonghwa, anger and hurt dancing in his eyes. “Why not just stop the damn blood ritual? They’re always talking about it.”

“They think killing you is the only way to do that.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Yunho’s been training for years to stop it.” 

Seonghwa shook his head slowly. “Yunho’s no longer an option,” he said. “Neither is Mingi. Or Hyung-bae for that matter. This night has exacted a heavy toll.” 

When Jongho next spoke, his voice was small, just above a whisper. “They’re dead?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow.” 

“And Hongjoong’s missing. We thought we’d lost Yeosang too but...it’s good to know he’s ok.” 

Jongho's shoulders slumped. “So this really is the last big one, huh? Geez. No wonder Sang was so worried, and why there’s been so much activity near the school. You said Wooyoung has my amulet?” 

Seonghwa nodded. “Yeah. He has the picture, too.”

“That means Brother has the full amulet. Shit.” 

“Maybe,” Seonghwa said. “But maybe not. I know Wooyoung’s loyalties lie with Brother but...I don’t think he’s entirely working against us, either. He might not have given him the amulet yet.” Jongho raised an eyebrow. “Ok, this might sound weird but when Mingi and I were tied up, when Wooyoung was looking for the amulet photo, he claimed he found his lighter in my pocket. I thought that was weird because I could have sworn I’d put it in my bag, but at the time I was trying really hard not to die. And then, before Wooyoung left, someone put something in my hand? I thought it was Mingi but...look.” He held up the object he’d pulled from his pocket, revealing it to be a lighter very similar to the one Jongho had recognized as Wooyoung’s. They were almost identical, the only difference being the color. Where Wooyoung’s was bright, clear gold, the new one was a cloudy, murky onyx color. “I was right about his lighter being in my bag,” Seonghwa said. “Which means he didn’t find it, but he wanted me to think he did?”

“No,” Jongho shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “He wanted someone else to think he did.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten away if it weren’t for this, and I think Wooyoung knew that. I think...he’s been helping me this whole time. At least as much as he could.”

“But why? Why you and me but not the others?”

“Because he thinks the ghost vigilantes want to kill you...and that might be true to a point, but I highly doubt Yeosang wants you dead, and I’m pretty sure Hongjoong doesn’t want that, either. He seemed pretty surprised that there was a plan b to begin with. But Wooyoung wouldn’t know that. He does know that I won’t hurt you, maybe he needed a way to tell me about what the ghost vigilantes were doing so I would stop aligning myself with them. He even went as far as to tell me where he was going.” 

Jongho's eyebrows shot up as he stood a little taller. “Where?” 

“He went back to Sehwa University, that’s where Brother is. That’s where he took the amulet.” 

“That’s where Sang must have gone.” Jongho took a moment to process everything, then crossed to the window on the other end of the room. “Look,” he said, waiting for Seonghwa to join him. “The blood moon is nearly at its highest point. That’s when the veil between the realms will be thinnest, that’s when Brother will try to cross over. If there's any hope of stopping him, it has to happen before then.” 

Seonghwa leaned against the glass a bit, fixing his gaze on the giant red orb. “The great gnashing,” he said. “That’s what it is, right? That’s what we have to stop. If we stop that, the umbran gates can’t open.” 

“If _I_ stop it,” Jongho said.

Seonghwa turned quickly, alarmed at how far away Jongho’s voice sounded.

The younger boy stood by the door, an apologetic look on his face. “Thank you for all your help, hyung. It was good to see you, I hope I can see you again when this is all over.” 

Seonghwa opened his mouth to object, but Jongho was too fast. He stepped out of the room and slammed the door shut behind it, bracing it as Seonghwa threw himself against it. The door gave a bit, then slammed shut again as Jongho shifted his weight against it. “Open the door, this isn't funny!” Seonghwa screamed.

“Just stay put, hyung, you’ll be safe in there. I’ll come back once Brother is taken care of, ok?” 

“Open the fucking _door_ , Jongho!” 

“I’m really sorry, hyung.” Seonghwa heard Jongho move away from the door, could hear his footsteps echoing down the hall as he left. 

He threw himself against the door, frustrated to find that it still wouldn’t open. Jongho absolutely could _not_ go to Sehwa University. Brother had killed Yunho and had potentially obtained both pieces of the amulet, all that was missing was Jongho. The boy should have run in the opposite direction but...no. Seonghwa knew him better than that, knew he’d try to save his friends. 

Not wanting to waste anymore energy on a door he knew wouldn’t move, Seonghwa retreated into the room, running his hands through his hair as he frantically tried to think of a way out. The window wasn’t an option, they were simply too many stories up and the darkness closed in before he could see the ground. He dug into his bag, pulling out the phone Yeosang had given him. He considered calling Yeosang but...no, Jongho said he was probably already at the university and if he was, then he might be able to stop Jongho before he did anything stupid. 

But then...who did that leave? Everyone else was dead, except...Seonghwa dug through the phone’s contacts until he found the one he was looking for. He wasn’t expecting much but when he held the phone up to his ear, he was surprised to hear another voice frantically speaking on the other end. “Hongjoong,” Seonghwa said, concerned at how panicked the other sounded. 

“Seonghwa?” Hongjoong paused. “How did you do that?” 

“Do...do what?” 

“Call me!” 

Seonghwa was confused. Had Hongjoong hit his head? He knew Seonghwa had a phone, right? He’d seen him use it but…”Your number is in the phone,” he said. “I just called it.” 

“But the call went _through._ How?” 

“I don’t know what it is you want me to say. I just called you.” 

Hongjoong was quiet for a moment, his frantic breathing the only sound. “I was lost,” he said. “We got separated and I got turned around in the dark and...I just don’t know how you got through. I’m glad you did, though. I think the dark's releasing me. Where are you?” 

Seonghwa remembered the first time he’d gotten trapped in the dark, how Yeosang had said he’d been calling him for almost ten minutes, but it had only felt like he’d been trapped in there for a couple. But in that instance, it hadn’t been Yeosang’s calls that got him out of there, it had been Seonghwa himself. Yeosang hadn’t been able to get through until Seonghwa was out of the tunnel...maybe that’s what Hongjoong was confused about. And, now that he had thought about it, Seonghwa was pretty confused as well. 

Regardless, he focused on guiding Hongjoong to him, staying on the line and talking to the other to help keep the darkness at bay. He explained what happened as he waited, deciding to just tell him about Mingi then and there. Hongjoong seemed saddened by the news, but they didn’t dwell on it. Seonghwa wondered if that would change once they were back home.

“How’d you get a desk in front of the door?” Hongjoong asked suddenly. “It looks heavy.” 

“You’re smart,” Seonghwa said. “You can figure this out. I believe in you.”

There was silence on the other end. “Seonghwa-hyung?”

“Yes?”

“You’re trapped in that room, aren’t you?” 

“Told you you could do it.” 

“Fuck off.”

Seonghwa laughed as the line went dead. He heard Hongjoong struggling to move the desk and laughed louder, flashing his friend a bright smile when the door finally opened. “Took you long enough,” he said, pushing past Hongjoong.

“It was heavy!” 

“Uh-huh. Come on, we need to get to Sehwa University.” Seonghwa started off, stopping only when Hongjoong grabbed his arm and pulled him back. 

“Whoa there, calm down. A few more details might be nice.” 

“Jongho went to Sehwa University to stop Wooyoung and Brother. He thinks Yeosang is there, too. Either way, the amulet, Brother, and Jongho are all in the same place and the blood moon is almost at its highest point. We need to get there as quickly as possible or else the waking world is doomed.” 

Hongjoong stared at Seonghwa hard. “You have any weirdos in your family?” 

“What?”

“Do you have any weirdos in your family? Anyone who’s shunned because they believe in weird stuff?”

“No. Why does that matter?”

“Maybe it doesn’t,” Hongjoong said. “It’s just...Yunho thought it was important to save you, and I think I’m starting to see why. Everything you just said...you sound like someone who was born into the fold. But not like me, someone more like Yunho or Taehoon. You’re sure there’s no one weird in your family? Nobody who talks about things that can’t be explained or…?”

“No, nothing like that. Born into the fold? Me?” 

“I noticed it back at the train station. You’re new here, that’s obvious but you understand things faster than you should, you come to conclusions that don’t seem obvious. When you saw that vine you inferred that it couldn’t hear, smell, or see us, despite not being able to fully see it yourself. And you got through the darkness.”

“Was that something Yunho and Taehoon could do?”

“In their own way, yes. Taehoon could drive the darkness back by reciting math formulas and Yunho...his is harder to explain. He kind of...befriended it? He refused to see the darkness as a threat and so it wasn’t one. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him get snagged by it, ever. It just never tried to trap him. You don’t drive it back, though, you cut through it. I’ve never seen that before.” 

“Maybe we can figure this out back home? We don’t have a lot of time.” Seonghwa turned down the hall. “It’s this way, right?”

“Yeah but...there’s a problem.”

“Problem? What problem?”

Hongjoong hesitated before sighing. “It’s best if I just show you.” 

The darkness around the hospital was thick, thicker than Seonghwa had ever seen, and it completely surrounded them. He knew the general direction the University was in, that wasn’t the only problem. Though he couldn’t see them, he knew there were creatures in the darkness, vengeful shades that would descend upon them the first chance they got. He could hear them moaning and growling and shuffling around just outside of the edge of the light. And he knew, for no reason other than that was just how the night had gone up to that point, that the densest concentration of shades was directly ahead of them: the direction they’d have to head in to get to Jongho.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Hongjoong said. “Let’s just ride the subway. But…”

“That door doesn’t work anymore,” Seonghwa said, his eyes darting around the darkness. 

“Yeah.” 

“So we have to go through.”

“But we can’t.” 

“There’s got to be a way. Jongho got through."

“Jongho has a motorcycle," Hongjoong said. "If we had Yunho maybe we could get through, but…” 

That got Seonghwa’s attention. He turned to Hongjoong. “What would Yunho have done?” 

“He had this stuff that calmed the shades, kept them from attacking.” 

Seonghwa thought back to his interactions with Yunho. He’d done something like that to the butcher, had he not? He’d lit something that drew all of the fight out of the shade and made it retreat into its shop. He hadn’t gotten a good look at it but...he dug through his bag, producing the sticks of incense he’d been given. “Is that what spectral incense does?” 

Hongjoong looked like a kid on Christmas morning. “That’s the stuff! Where did you get it?”

“Yunho gave it to me, he said it’d help me if I ever ran into Dark Song but...they should work here, too.” He dug one of the lighters out of his pocket. “Looks like Wooyoung’s going to help us out a bit, too.” Seonghwa lit a stick of incense and held it out in front of them. He and Hongjoong exchanged glances, and Hongjoong held tightly onto Seonghwa’s bag. 

“We’re really gonna do this, then?” 

“You said I’m able to cut through so...let’s cut through.” 

They stepped out of the light together, bracing themselves as the darkness sucked them in. It was suffocating at first, swarming and smothering them, doing its best to pull them apart as it drew them in ever deeper, but the shades were keeping their distance and that at least was a blessing. Seonghwa felt Hongjoong being pulled away from him and reached back, gripping the front of his shirt tightly and all but dragging him through. His other hand held the incense out in front of them, despite the increasing pressure that was pushing in on them. He didn’t know how far they had to go, but he knew if the dark kept up like that, they’d never make it. They’d only gone a little ways and he was already feeling fatigued. What was more, he knew the stick of incense would die out before they got to the school, and there was no way he was going to be able to light another one if things continued on the way they were. He felt Hongjoong grab onto his arm tightly, doing his best to stay upright. Seonghwa risked a glance back and could tell by the look on Hongjoong’s face that he was struggling far more than Seonghwa himself. There had to be a way to get the darkness to ease up, to get it to leave them be and let them pass through unchallenged. 

He thought of the ladder at the police station, of fleeing from Dark Song in the market. The darkness had let him pass in both of those instances, but why not now? What was different? He could think of only one common denominator between both interactions. “Where are we going?” He shouted.

“What?”

“Where are we going?” Seonghwa repeated, planting his feet and turning to Hongjoong.

“Sehwa University!” Hongjoong shouted back, clearly confused.

“Who are we looking for?”

Hongjoong gave him a puzzled look. “Jongho and Yeosang!” 

“What are we going to do?”

“Stop Brother from crossing into our world!” 

“How are we going to do that?”

“I don’t…” Hongjoong thought for a moment. “With the moon incense!” 

Seonghwa nodded. He wasn’t sure, but he thought maybe the darkness wasn’t hitting them as hard. He turned, continuing to pull Hongjoong through the thick of it, incense held out in front of them. “Sehwa, Jongho, Moon Incense, Brother! In that order, right?” 

“Yeah,” Hongjoong said. “But why--”

“Say it!” Seonghwa said, then, “No...chant it!” Hongjoong nodded and the two of them continued on, chanting as loudly as they could, until finally the darkness let up. They pressed on in silence, the two still hanging onto each other tightly, until the stick of incense started to burn low. Seonghwa handed the almost extinguished stick to Hongjoong and pulled out another, lighting it against the dwindling flame of the last. “When I was trying to get out of the police station, I got trapped in the darkness between floors. I got out by focusing on what I had to do and chanting it like that. Yeosang seemed impressed that I was able to get out on my own and at first I thought it was because I had something to focus on...I do something similar when I need to muscle through fear or insecurity. But now I think...Brother’s hurting The Coma, and I think the darkness is trying to protect itself from that. I think it lets me pass because I make it clear what my intentions are.” 

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “How did you come to that conclusion?” 

Seonghwa shrugged. “Not really sure. But...you said Yunho befriended the darkness, and it got me thinking about Mrs. Jang. Have you met her?” Hongjoong nodded. “When I met her, she was complaining to Yunho about the hardware store owner, and she said ‘I don’t have to let him pass through my shop, I’m doing him a favor. The least he could do is not be so negative.’ It made me wonder if The Coma felt the same way. About us.” 

“I wish you and Yunho had had more time to get to know each other.” Hongjoong smiled when Seonghwa looked back at him. “You two have similar ways of seeing this place.” He looked around a bit. “So you think, on some level, that The Coma is aware of what’s happening to it?”

“In a way. The Coma is essentially a shadow of our world, right? And our world has been known to, if given time, heal itself. But where the Waking World heals…”

“The Coma attacks,” Hongjoong said. “That makes a lot of sense, actually. The changes Brother is making are affecting the Coma, so it’s trying to keep it from happening more.”

“But once we make it known that our goal is to stop Brother, not hurt The Coma, it lets us pass.” Seonghwa smiled and held the spectral incense out into the darkness. “Look...this stuff is quieting the shades, sure but...they look trapped, don't they?"

Hongjoong nodded slowly. "Interesting...it's like it doesn't want them to cause anymore trouble."

"Exactly. See? I’m nothing special. I just figured out how to speak its language.”

“I’ve been a ghost vigilante for years, so have the others. No one’s ever figured this out before. Figuring out how to speak its language is exactly what makes you special, hyung.” 

Seonghwa frowned, but he didn’t have a chance to respond. Before they knew it, the darkness opened up into another wash of light, and the boys found themselves staring up at Sehwa University. 

“Can I ask a favor?”

Seonghwa turned to look at Hongjoong, who stared fiercely at the building before them. “Of course,” he said. 

“This may sound like it's out of left field, and I'm fine to answer any questions you may have but...what we’re about to do is dangerous, and things are going to get pretty hectic. I’ve lost a lot of friends tonight,” Hongjoong said, finally shifting his gaze to Seonghwa. “If you get the chance, can you...just...if you find a way to save Wooyoung, please do so. I know he's caused trouble for everyone tonight and...I know he had a hand in what happened to you and Mingi, I do. But he’s a good kid, he just…” He looked back towards the building. “A lot of people failed him, and he was forced to figure out how to survive on his own. He shouldn't be eternally punished for something out of his control.” 

Seonghwa nodded. “If I have the chance, I’ll get him out of here.” 

“Ok,” Hongjoong said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s see this thing through.” 

Things were going down in the gymnasium, it seemed. Or at least, that’s where The Coma (or maybe Brother?) wanted them; for roughly ten minutes, Seonghwa and Hongjoong skirted the exterior of the school, trying every door they came across. Regardless of which door they tried, however, they all opened into the same hallway, right outside the gymnasium. 

Because Seonghwa wasn’t a student at Sehwa, he’d never actually set foot in the building but, given the look on Hongjoong’s face, something wasn’t right about the place. Seonghwa asked, but the other boy didn’t have an answer for him. The hall was wrong, yes, but Hongjoong couldn’t put his finger on exactly _how_ it was wrong. 

Seonghwa clicked on his flashlight and the two slowly headed down the hall, doing their best to keep an eye out for anything that might be dangerous. The beam of light swept across the floor and walls, swinging back and forth as they advanced. The darkness itself seemed to be giving them a wide berth and from what either of them could see the creatures that resided within it remained outside, further convincing them that the darkness held them back. The halls themselves were completely empty. Eventually, Seonghwa stopped, the beam of his flashlight illuminating and reflecting off of a large glass case. Hongjoong stared at him, confused, but Seonghwa couldn’t pull his attention away from the case. He crossed over to it, directing the light slightly away so he could see the contents of the box. 

He remembered a night not too long after he’d first started tutoring Jongho, when he’d finally gotten the boy to talk to him. The first few sessions had been painful; Jongho paid attention and he did the work, but Seonghwa could tell he was embarrassed about the whole situation. And he could see why; Jongho was smart, and it was clear that he didn’t need Seonghwa’s help at all. It was difficult for him to figure out exactly why Jongho’s grades were so bad, so Seonghwa set out to try to get the boy to talk to him, maybe explain why his grades were suffering. If Seonghwa could help him fix that issue, then he could get his grades back where his parents wanted them and the boy could go back to whatever it was he did outside of class. 

It turned out to be basketball. Seonghwa had arrived early for tutoring and was surprised to see Jongho there, as well, spinning a bright orange basketball atop one finger. He was intensely focused on the activity, completely missing how Seonghwa entered the room and sat beside him. When the tutor inquired as to whether or not Jongho played, the boy jumped clear out of his skin, sending the ball soaring across the room until it slammed into a bookshelf. One of the shelves dislodged, scattering books and pencils and other assorted knick knacks across the floor. The room fell silent as both Seonghwa and Jongho stared at the destruction, the latter’s eyes as big as saucers. 

“That,” Seonghwa had said, completely straight-faced, “was fucking hilarious.” 

Jongho, equally as straight-faced, replied with a quiet, “yeah it was.” He looked at Seonghwa. “Please don’t tell Mad Dog I did that.” 

Seonghwa agreed and the two made quick work of cleaning up the mess. As they cleaned, Seonghwa got Jongho to tell him about basketball, how he loved playing and how he hoped to make the team the following year. He’d meant to try out that year, but because of his grades and tutoring schedule, he’d had to skip it. The sadness in his voice when he said that was palpable, and Seonghwa resisted the urge to pat him on the back and tell him he was sorry. 

The memory was nice, but for a moment Seonghwa couldn’t figure out why he’d thought of it. As his eyes adjusted to the light, however, he noticed a number of framed photos within the case. Photos of Sehwa’s basketball teams lined the shelves within the case, starting from 1945 when Sehwa Academy had been expanded into Sehwa University. Seonghwa looked from picture to picture, taking note of the years of each class. He paused when he got to the last one, his brow furrowing in confusion. 

“Sehwa University still has a basketball team, right?” Seonghwa knew the answer to that question, because Jongho had talked about joining it, but he wanted to make sure. 

Hongjoong craned his neck to try and see around Seonghwa. “Yeah, why?” 

“This case only has the teams up until 1957.” Seonghwa straightened up and turned to Hongjoong. “I could be wrong but...there were years after that, right?”

“Two or three, yeah,” Hongjoong said with a chuckle. “Maybe there’s another case with the rest?” 

“I thought that but...there’s still more room in this one. And look…” Seonghwa shined the flashlight across the walls. “There’s no other case.” 

“Maybe it’s at the end of the hall…?” 

“Or maybe it’s not needed yet.” 

Hongjoong looked at the case, then at Seonghwa, then back to the case, then back to Seonghwa. “You think we’re in the past?” 

“Maybe? Or the past has come to us. It’s possible we’re still in the present time, just in a past version of the school...you said it felt weird, right? That something was wrong with it? Maybe because the layout is similar to the one you remember, but it’s an older version.” Seonghwa sighed. “The thing is, I don’t know why Brother would do this. Why is this setting ideal for the blood ritual?”

“1957 was the last super blood moon.” Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa, fear noticeable on his face. “He tried to complete the blood ritual then, too, but he was stopped.” Something seemed to occur to Hongjoong then, because he grabbed Seonghwa’s arm. “Oh, OH! Holy shit! I know why!” He started running down the hall, Seonghwa stumbling along behind him. He had no idea where they were going, but Hongjoong looked like he did, so he was content to follow his lead. 

Eventually, the halls they were running through began to look more familiar to Seonghwa. Everything was still rather dilapidated and the decorations were in desperate need of an update but he was able to tell they’d made it into the main body of the school. Hongjoong finally came to a halt in front of a classroom. It didn’t seem to have any kind of special markings or anything that Seonghwa could see, but Hongjoong was staring at the door with a mix of excitement and trepidation. Suddenly, he reached out and threw the door open, pulling Seonghwa inside with him. 

They moved toward the back of the classroom, crouching down behind an overturned bookshelf. Peeking over the edge of the bookshelf, Seonghwa’s confusion only grew as his eyes swept the room and found...nothing. He was about to ask Hongjoong what they were looking for when a familiar voice cut through the silence.

“Sumi!” 

Seonghwa turned to see Yeosang standing at the doorway, his face twisted into an angry scowl. Seonghwa was sure it was him - he had Yeosang’s eyes, at least - but there was something different about him. Where Seonghwa was used to seeing long, blonde locks was a messy mop of short, brown hair. The usual dark blue-and-black uniform Yeosang was wearing was also missing, a white, blood stained Sehwa uniform in its place. The boy looked exhausted and scared, but also furious. 

“Where is it?” Yeosang yelled. “Where’s the moon incense?” 

“This cycle of suffering and death...it’s _over,_ Yeosang. I won’t play this role you’ve prepared for me!” 

Seonghwa turned his attention toward the front of the classroom, where another individual stood. A young girl, likely about 17 or 18, stood at the head of the classroom, their back turned to Yeosang. 

“What did you see in the mirror, Sumi?” Yeosang crossed the room, stopping only a few feet from the girl. “Tell me what you saw!”

“I saw…” The girl - Sumi - turned to face Yeosang, her hands balled into tight fists and her eyes sparking with defiance. “I saw another, someone who will see this to its natural conclusion. I...I gave him the blade.” 

“You…” Yeosang’s eyes grew wide. “You gave the moon incense to your _successor_ ??” Sumi seemed to shrink back from Yeosang’s rage. “Do you have any idea how selfish that is? Brother is Suho’s fettered shade and as such, he is _your_ responsibility! Stopping him is _your_ duty, you can’t simply pass that on to another!”

“No!” Defiance once more filled Sumi’s eyes. “No, there’s good in Brother, I know it! We can save our world _without_ condemning him to oblivion!”

Yeosang’s shoulders slumped. “You have no idea what you’ve just done. We won’t get another chance like this for at least 60 years! He’ll be too powerful to stop then…”

The entire building shook then, throwing Hongjoong and Seonghwa to the floor. By the time they regained their footing and peered back over the bookshelf, Sumi and Yeosang were gone. Seonghwa turned to Hongjoong to ask what had just occurred, but Hongjoong was already up and heading toward the front of the classroom, clearly searching for something. 

“What did we just see?” Seonghwa asked. Slowly getting to his feet and following Hongjoong. “Was that Yeosang? From 63 years ago?” He felt sick. “How can that be? Aside from his hair being a little different, he looked exactly the same! How could he have been here during the last super blood moon?” 

“Yeosang has a lot of secrets,” Hongjoong said. “We all do.” He disappeared from sight for a moment and reappeared with a bag, a triumphant smile on his face. “Here it is!” 

Seonghwa joined him at the front of the classroom and his eyes landed on the Sehwa patch on the bag. Hongjoong began to dig through the bag, placing the contents on the table. One of the items was an ID card that Seonghwa quickly picked up, his eyes scanning over the face of the girl in the picture. “Park Sumi,” he said out loud. “She…” he glanced at Hongjoong. “She looks a lot like you.” 

“Yeah, wild, right?” He laughed. “Apparently I’m the spitting image of her brother.” He continued to dig through the bag, missing the way Seonghwa was looking at him. “Oh,” he said, pulling out a sheet of paper. “Park Sumi is my grandmother.” 

“Park Sumi is the girl from Jongho’s amulet,” Seonghwa said. “Is the amulet yours?” 

“No, it belongs to my aunt.” 

Seonghwa thought for a moment. It felt like years had past since he first held the amulet in his hands, but he vaguely remembered thinking the girl bore a resemblance to… “Professor Song is your aunt?”

“Surprise,” Hongjoong said. He held up the folded sheet of paper he’d pulled from the bag. “I found what we needed, come on.” 

Seonghwa stayed where he was as his brain struggled to process the new information. How? How had he gotten that deep into the night only to find more connections? More questions? And why was he the only one freaking out about the fact that Yeosang was at least 70 years old? 

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong called. 

“I need a minute,” Seonghwa said, his voice breaking slightly. “ ‘s just a lot going on.” 

“I would love to let you process,” Hongjoong said. “But we don’t really have a minute. We need to find that mirror they talked about.” 

“The mirror? What mirror? Why?”

“Because, Sumi said she gave the moon incense to someone through the mirror...that’s where it’s hiding. Come on.” 

Seonghwa followed after, his head a mess of confusion. 

“If I’m reading this correctly, the mirror should be through here.” 

They crossed the hall and entered another classroom, and maybe it was because Seonghwa was confused and struggling to process all the new information he’d gotten, but when he looked up, he thought he had officially gone mad. 

_We’re all mad here,_ he thought, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

The room before them was unlike anything Seonghwa had ever seen, in the Waking World OR the Coma. At first glance it appeared to be another classroom, just as rundown and dilapidated as the rest of the school, but as he looked around more, he noticed that it was impossibly large. The room seemed to stretch on forever, its walls lined with rows of doors. He followed them until they disappeared into darkness, no doubt continuing on and on with no perceivable end. 

“Can I help you?” 

Seonghwa turned his attention toward the front of the room, where a rather tired looking shade resided. He was tall, even standing hunched against the wall. In his hands was a tattered notebook, and as the figure stared them down, his hand moved at a feverish pace, never ceasing its writing. Seonghwa tilted his head slightly, staring hard at the shade. Something about his eyes was familiar and as Seonghwa stared, an odd sadness began to stir in his gut. He turned to ask Hongjoong if he thought the shade looked familiar, too, but the look on Hongjoong’s face caused the question to die before it even reached his lips. 

“Are you alright?” he asked instead, taking notices of how the boy’s eyes seemed to gloss over. He was staring at the shade with a mix of fear and anger and regret, and Seonghwa could see his hands shaking. “Hongjoong?”

At the sound of his name, Hongjoong snapped out of his thoughts and hastily turned his attention to Seonghwa. “Huh? Yeah...yeah I’m ok.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m gonna check out the doors,” he said, almost scurrying away from the shade. 

“If you have no need for me,” the shade said, dropping his gaze to his notebook. “I have a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it.”

Seonghwa nodded. Was it just him or did the shade’s voice sound familiar, too? It couldn’t just be him, not if Hongjoong had reacted the way he did. He was convinced they knew this person..or rather, they knew the person the shade was fettered to. 

“Actually,” Seonghwa said, giving the shade an apologetic smile, “I do have a few questions.” 

The shade sighed, then glanced back at Seonghwa. He really did look quite exhausted, but his eyes were still sharp and he studied Seonghwa with an intimidating intensity. “You’re that interloper,” he finally said. “Seonghwa, right?” The whole time, his hand continued to write. 

Taken aback by the question, it took a moment for Seonghwa to respond. “Oh...Um...yeah. How do you know my name?”

“Everyone knows your name after the shit you pulled with the dokkaebi. Real bonehead move, kid.” 

Something about how the shade talked about the dokkaebi tugged at Seonghwa and for a second he almost placed where he knew the shade from. Unfortunately, it was quickly overshadowed by embarrassment. He dropped his gaze a bit. “Yeah...uh...sorry about that. I really don’t want to cause any trouble. We just...I’m sorry but do I know you? Who are you?”

“I’m the Noteman,” the shade said, his tone suggesting this was common knowledge. “I catalogue what happens in The Coma. And ever since you pissed Brother off, it’s been an absolute nightmare of a job. Normally I can focus on the university but after the stunt you pulled, I’ve had to grant sanctuary to the other keepers, leaving me to cover the happenings across at least four city blocks.” 

“I...I’m sorry…”

“You’re always sorry.” 

“I—” For the first time since they’d crossed paths, the Noteman stopped writing. He began to flip back through his pages, tallying as he went. 

“You apologize a lot,” he said. “To everyone you’ve crossed paths with, almost.” He flipped back to the top page and resumed his writing, his eyes firmly fixed on Seonghwa. “What other questions did you have?”

“Um…” Seonghwa was drawing a blank, so he opted for the first question that came to mind. “What did you mean when you said you had to grant sanctuary to the other keepers? What are keepers?”

The Noteman sighed again. “Keepers are souls that were trapped in the Coma with unfinished business. We tend to the Coma, help her and those who cross over here to stay alive. You’ve encountered a few…the officer at the precinct, the station manager, the little girl at the hospital.” The whole time, he jotted down notes faster and faster. Seonghwa wondered if he was copying down their conversation, or if he was somehow notating what was occurring in the Coma while they talked. “They helped you because that’s their purpose, but Brother knows they helped you and has rendered their domains uninhabitable. As such, they fled here, hoping to wait out Brother’s influence.” 

“Why not render Sehwa uninhabitable, too.”

“He’s trying,” The Noteman said, gesturing to the hallway of doors. “This is the result of Brother attempting to compress multiple dimensions, to fold time and space in on itself and force us out of The Coma for good. But to render Sehwa uninhabitable would be to destroy his home, his domain. So he is limited; this is the worst he can do to us and unfortunately for him, we do not need much to survive.” He studied Seonghwa intently and nodded. “But I would like this to reach its natural conclusion soon, and that requires you to navigate these halls.” 

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. Halls? Plural? He turned to the hallway once more; he could only see the one. Did it branch off the deeper you went? Was it a maze? A labyrinth with a monster at the end? 

“I’m willing to help you,” the Noteman continued, “but like Brother my ability to do so is limited, so listen closely. You are here because you are seeking something, and it is here, in a way. You’ll need to use the wight burrows to find it.”

“The what?”

The Noteman narrowed his gaze. “How do you know so much and yet so little?”

Seonghwa stood up a little straighter, meeting The Noteman’s gaze. “How are you pressed for time and yet are willing to waste so much talking down to me?” 

The Noteman’s lips twitched, a small smile making its way onto his face. “Wight burrows are doorways that connect dimensions,” he said. “You experienced it earlier, in the subway tunnel.” 

“Oh,” he said, snapping. “So going through one of these doors could drop me anywhere in the coma?” 

The Noteman nodded. “Exactly. You need to find the right wight burrows, though, otherwise you’ll just run in circles for eternity.” 

“Lovely.”

“4,3,5,” the Noteman said, his scribbling picking up speed. “Yes, that should do it. 4,3,5, those should get you where you want to go. But you need to know what you seek in order for the wight burrows to know where to take you and...you do not. Nor do you possess the tools necessary to properly follow your path.”

“What?” A small wave of panic washed over Seonghwa. “What tools? What do I seek?”

“I’m sorry,” the Noteman said, and for once he really did look apologetic. “That’s all I can say. But you’re smart, Park Seonghwa. You can figure this out, just trust yourself.” He gestured to the hallway. “Now make haste. Brother grows stronger by the moment.” 

Seonghwa stared at the Noteman for a moment before sighing and turning to follow Hongjoong. He found the other chatting amicably with an old looking shade, having apparenlty gotten over whatever it was that had spooked him. 

“There you are!” Hongjoong said. “This is the Engineer, he owns the hardware shop in the Dokkaebi Market.” 

Seonghwa stared at the old shade as he extended his hand. The Dokkaebi Market felt like years ago, _everything_ felt like years ago. Seonghwa stared at the outstretched hand, then up at the Engineer’s smile. “You’re the market’s keeper,” he said. He didn’t know if it was a question or a statement, but the Engineer nodded just the same. “Then you shouldn’t need to be told to be kinder to Mrs. Jang,” he snapped. 

The Engineer dropped his hand and he and Hongjoong both stared at Seonghwa in shock. Seonghwa ignored them both, adjusting his bag and turning his attention to the doors. He didn’t like to think about the market, and he liked thinking about Mrs. Jang and the Engineer less. Those thoughts led him back to...he gave his head a shake to clear his thoughts. There would be time for that later, for now he had to focus. 

“So…” Hongjoong joined him at his side. “What was _that_ about?” 

“Why did you run from The Noteman?” Seonghwa asked. “Who is he?” 

Hongjoong dropped his gaze. “I’d rather not talk about it.” 

“Ok then.” He gestured to the door in front of him. “There are wight burrows behind these. We need to use them to find something.”

“To find...what?”

Seonghwa shrugged. “I don’t know. He said as much. Also said we don’t have the tools to find it. I don’t think we’re supposed to be here yet.” 

Hongjoong was quiet for a moment before pulling out a piece of paper and handing it to Seonghwa. “This is what I got out of Sumi’s bag. Look at these drawings...they look like this room, right?”

Seonghwa studied the diagram. It did indeed resemble the hall of doors. He nodded, and Hongjoong instructed him to turn the paper over. On the other side was a crude diagram that Seonghwa couldn’t quite decipher. The drawing consisted of a doll, an X, and a series of lines. He gave Hongjoong a confused look. 

“We need to find the doll,” he explained. “The room the doll is in is the room the mirror’s in. See? This X must be the mirror.”

“So you think we can get to that room through the wight burrows?”

“It would make sense,” Hongjoong said. “I’ve been searching for Teijo’s Mirror for over a year, if it was in the University I’d know about it. One of these must take us where we need to go.”

“4,3,5,” Seonghwa said. “Those should get us where we want to go…” He thought for a moment. “So...what does it mean?”

“4th door, 3rd door, 5th door.” Hongjoong said. “Probably?” 

Seonghwa nodded. “That makes sense. Ok. So...we know what we seek, and how to find it. Right? Right.” He frowned. “Why doesn’t it _feel_ right?”

“We figured it out kind of fast...maybe that’s why? You’re just overthinking it. Come on, if we need the 4th door then we need...this one!”

 _Just trust yourself._ The Noteman’s words echoed in Seonghwa’s mind as he watched Hongjoong run off. The other had a point, Seonghwa did have a tendency to overthink things but... _just trust yourself._ “Hongjoong, I don’t think this is right. We’re missing something.”

“It’s _fine,_ hyung, come on!” Hongjoong pulled a door open and waved Seonghwa over. Seonghwa joined him hesitantly. “Ok, let’s go!”

Seonghwa took a deep breath. Maybe Hongjoong was right, maybe he was overthinking. Maybe the Noteman was just some shade who was completely out of his mind, maybe it really was as easy as that. He stepped through the door, his eyes fixed firmly on his feet. 

“What the _fuck_?” 

Seonghwa looked up at the sound of Hongjoong’s voice, in time to see them both from behind. He watched as the other Hongjoong and Seonghwa braced themselves and stepped through the same door he and Hongjoong had just stepped through. He turned back slowly, not surprised to see the door behind them was firmly shut.

Huh. Well that was weird. 

“What the hell happened?” Hongjoong asked. 

“It looks like that door sent us back in time a few seconds? Confusing but hey at least we didn’t waste any time.”

“We must have done it wrong.”

“We...walked through the door wrong?” He gave Hongjoong a look. “Or we went through the wrong door?”

“It’s the right door!” Hongjoong snapped. “Just...hold on.” He ran for the door at full speed, and before Seonghwa could so much as open his mouth to stop him, Hongjoong was standing next to him again, his eyes wide. In front of them, the other Hongjoong hadn’t gone through the door yet, and Seonghwa felt instantly sick. 

He held up a hand to Hongjoong and shook his head. “Oh...nope, nuh-uh, you’re not...don’t do that again.” He gagged a bit, doing his best to calm his rolling stomach. “It’s the wrong door.”

“It’s not, it’s the fourth door!”

“Then maybe we were wrong about that!” Seonghwa snapped back. “Or maybe we have the correct door but the wrong intention. Either way, I don’t think we need to be trying to do this yet. We don’t have the proper tools.”

“What does that fucking mean?” Hongjoong shouted back. “We don’t have time for riddles! We need to find that fucking mirror!”

“And we will! But running through that door over and over again isn’t going to get it done any faster! And if we try other doors at random we could end up really lost!” 

“Well then what do you propose we do, huh? Since you know so much!” When Seonghwa didn’t respond, Hongjoong turned away in a huff. “That’s what I fucking thought,” he grumbled. 

Seonghwa took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t mean to yell I just...I know we don’t have time but getting lost in the wight burrows isn’t going to buy us _more_ time. So let’s just stop and think, ok?”

Hongjoong was quiet, his attention on a spot on the floor that he kept absently kicking at. 

“When Yeosang confronted Sumi about the moon incense, they were here at the school...and Brother attempted the last ritual here as well...so what if the mirror _is_ here? What if that X on that diagram isn’t the mirror, but a way to _reveal_ the mirror?” 

Hongjoong finally looked at him then. “But I’ve never seen that doll.”

“Because you weren’t looking for it,” Seonghwa said. “Think, where would something like that be kept? It looks old in the picture…”

“It might not be a doll?” Hongjoong pulled the paper out. “What if it’s more like a statue? The room they use for storage in the basement used to be the school library, before the current library was built.”

“You checked everywhere in the school as it is in our time,” Seonghwa said, “but this is technically a different school.” 

Hongjoong tilted his head slightly. “It’s possible that the old library had structures like this? It’s worth a look.” 

Seonghwa smiled. “Ok, so we head down to the basement!”

“Yeah.” Hongjoong followed him in silence for a while. When they reached the landing at the bottom of the basement stairs, he finally spoke up. “Look um...I’m sorry, too. For yelling. It’s been a long night and I just...I’m usually better at keeping it together.”

“It’s ok,” Seonghwa said. “I’m frustrated, too.”

“It’s not ok. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m sorry.” He gave Seonghwa a worried look. “Are you ok?”

“Yes?” Seonghwa said. Then, remembering the brief sickness he felt, he added “oh! Yeah. That was weird but I’m ok now. I think it just threw me to see you next to me and still running ahead of me. It felt like my head was being squeezed.” He chuckled lightly. He stepped aside and gestured for Hongjoong to take the lead again. “You know where the old library is,” he said. 

They made their way to the library, trying to be as quiet as possible. They’d had a few near misses, just barely managing to hide in time to avoid Dark Song, but for the most part it was rather uneventful. They sealed themselves in the old library and tried to be as quiet as possible as they searched the area. 

It wasn’t long before they located the small statue. Locating the mirror, however, was a different story. They consulted the image multiple times, pulled almost every book off the shelves, tugged on every lighting fixture, but...nothing. Finally, Hongjoong stared at the paper, tilting his head this way and that, before calling Seonghwa over. 

“What does this look like?” He asked, pointing out what Seonghwa had thought was just an errant smudge on the paper. 

“A mistake?” Seonghwa said. 

“Hmm.” Hongjoong stared at it a moment longer. “I think it looks like a leg.” 

“What?” Seonghwa studied the image. “Maybe? If I squint I can kind of see it but—“

“If it’s a leg,” Hongjoong said, walked back toward the statue, “then that would mean the switch is right…” Hongjoong stopped a bit away from the statue, staring hard at the floor. Suddenly, he lifted his leg up and brought the heel of his foot down hard on the floorboards. The old wood groaned and creaked and, to their relief, _clicked._ There was a popping sound as a wall at the end of the room shifted and the two boys ran over to it. 

Working together, they manage to pull the wall completely open. It was difficult, the wall proving more heavy than they’d expected but once it was open, they knew why. On the back of the wall hung an object covered in a heavy red cover. They could tell by the bits at the bottom that they had found exactly what they were looking for. 

Hongjoong pulled the cover off and there it was: Teijo’s mirror. 

The glass was murky and dirty, the thick gold frame chipped. But just standing in front of it, Seonghwa knew that he was in the presence of something truly magical. The more he stared at it, the more at peace Seonghwa felt. For the first time in his life, he felt like he was finally where he belonged. He reached out and ran his fingers over the intricate designs etched into the gold frame. It felt as if everything was clicking into place, as if him, standing in front of that mirror made everything make sense. 

The reflection that stared back was startling to say the least. Seonghwa was a mess; his clothes were torn and dirty, his hair was in disarray. He could see scratches and bruises all over his arms and face but his eyes...his eyes shone brighter than they ever had. Something had changed in him that night, something he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to articulate. The things he’d seen, the things he knew...there was absolutely no going back after that night. He was never going to be the same. 

Suddenly, the light from the blood moon shone through the window and hit the mirror, causing his reflection to shift and distort. Hongjoong watched in silence beside him, aware that whatever was happening, it was Seonghwa’s to face. Eventually his reflection began to settle again, re-solidifying until it once more resembled a face. The face that looked back at him, however, was not his. 

It belonged to Park Sumi. 

“You’re the girl from the amulet,” he said. “And from the classroom.” The girl said nothing. “Sumi, right? I...I think you have something for me.”

Wordlessly, Sumi revealed a small metal blade. It was sheathed, the silver casing covered in ornate carvings. Amongst the designs was an hourglass, much like the one on Jongho’s amulet. Sumi reached foreword, extending her arm outside of the mirror, as she presented the blade to Seonghwa. He took it without a word. Sumi retracted her hand, turned on her heels, and disappeared into the depths of the mirror. Seonghwa stared after her for a moment before walking away himself. 

The blade, despite it’s size, felt heavy in Seonghwa’s hands. With it, he finally had what he needed to stop the blood ritual but...Seonghwa frowned. 

“You feel it, too, don’t you?” Hongjoong asked Seonghwa turned to face his friend. “We’re still incomplete. 

Seonghwa let his eyes drift over to the mirror, the reflective surface still empty as it bathed in the light from the blood moon. An open doorway that Seonghwa knew not how to close nor operate. “There’s something else I’m supposed to do but every time I get close to knowing what, it flits away. And I’m worried once the blood moon shifts enough to conceal its light, I’ll be out of time.” 

“For now, let’s head back to the wight burrows,” Hongjoong suggested. “Maybe we can use them now that we have the moon incense.” 

“So it was you,” a voice called out. The boys looked up to see Yeosang staring at them, an odd panicked expression on his face. “I’ve asked myself for years who it was Sumi saw in the mirror. Now I know.” He turned to Hongjoong. “Did you retrieve the Tear of Kronos?” 

Hongjoong nodded, presenting a small, tear shaped gem. At first glance it appeared to be colorless, but as Seonghwa looked closer he noticed a storm of purples and blues swirling in the center. “Easy as pie,” Hongjoong said. “Not sure why everyone made such a big deal over this.” 

“It’s possible the entities guarding the tear were otherwise occupied tonight,” Yeosang said absently. “Come with me,” he said. 

“Wait,” Seonghwa said. “I know we don’t have a lot of time so I’ll make this quick. What did you know about Hyung-bae’s plan to kill Jongho?” 

The look on Yeosang’s face told Seonghwa everything he needed to know. “Hyung-bae’s...what?” Shock was quickly replaced by anger as Yeosang clenched his hands into tight fists. “Was _that_ plan b? This whole time he was telling him he had a way to get him home and…” He fixed Seonghwa with a firm gaze. “I knew nothing of that plan. My goal is and has always been getting Jongho home in one piece.”

“Always?” Seonghwa asked. “Even 60 years ago?” 

“My loyalties are to Jongho. You don’t need to know more than that.” 

“You’re right,” Seonghwa said. “And I believe you.” 

“So are you like 100 years old or…?” They both looked at Hongjoong. “You look great. What kind of moisturizer do you use?”

“Time is short,” Yeosang said, his voice flat and unamused. “And Brother has Jongho. We need to act fast.” 

Hongjoong nodded, before handing the gem to Seonghwa. “Here, this should unlock the blade.” 

Seonghwa took the gem. He studied the sheath for a moment before locating the small cavity that was shaped like the gem. He pressed it into the slot and the sheath popped open with a click. Seonghwa slid the top off and stared at the blade, moving it back and forth in the moonlight. The blade was so smooth and clear, bathed in the deep red light of the blood moon, and Seonghwa felt he could probably lose hours or even days just staring at it. “So,” he said, his voice distant and dreamy. “What do we...do now?” 

Hongjoong snapped his fingers in front of Seonghwa’s face at the same time as Yeosang clapped his together, causing the other boy to jump and almost drop the blade. 

“Now we focus,” they said in unison. 

“And then we...uh…” Yeosang looked uncomfortable, screwing his face up as he tried to remember the next step. “Hongjoong please tell me you know.”

“You don’t?” Hongjoong asked. “Yunho said he told you how to sanctify it!”

“He did!” Yeosang dropped his gaze. “I just...forgot.” 

Seonghwa laughed. He couldn’t help it. They’d done so much, come so close to dying so many times, and the thing that was ultimately going to bring them down was a faulty memory. How silly. So, he laughed. Why not?

The other two looked at him, which only made him laugh harder. Hongjoong gave him a small, uneasy smile, as if he wasn’t quite sure what was going on. Yeosang, however, fixed him with a hard glare. 

“What’s so funny?” He asked. Seonghwa just shook his head, unable to speak. “Can you at least try to focus? We need you to—“

“To wield a blade...that we don’t...know how...to sanctify!!” Seonghwa howled at that, the sound causing Hongjoong to start chuckling as well. He gave Yeosang an apologetic smile, shrugging as if to say _he’s not wrong!_ “We also...there’s this room of doors and...we don’t know how to use it!” He held the blade out in front of him. “We have everything we need! Right here! But we can’t do anything because we _don’t know what to do!_ ”

“I fail to see how that’s funny,” Yeosang grumbled. 

“It’s funny...because...it has to be!” Seonghwa continued to laugh, though his laughter was significantly subdued at that point. 

“Ah,” Hongjoong said. “I know that feeling.” He turned to Yeosang. “So what now? Any ideas?” 

Yeosang shook his head. “Everyone who would know how to sanctify the blade is dead.”

“Dammit, if we knew how to properly use the wight burrows…” Hongjoong kicked at the floor. “How cool would it be to just use one of those to take us into the past? We could talk to one of the old ghost vigilantes, get some answers.” 

“Wight burrows don’t work like that,” Yeosang said. “They compress distance, not time.” 

“Brother’s compressing both,” Seonghwa said, his giggles having finally subsided. He wiped at an errant tear. “So some of the wight burrows are manipulating time, too. I watched Hongjoong run through a door as he was standing next to me.” 

“Almost lost his lunch, too.” 

Yeosang raised his eyebrows. “What? You got sick?” 

“Yeah. But I’m ok now, I just—”

“Did it feel like your head was being squeezed?” 

Hongjoong and Seonghwa exchanged a look before Seonghwa nodded. 

“Well, that's embarrassing,” Yeosang said. He turned to Hongjoong. “He’s kronian.” 

Hongjoong’s eyes got wide. “Oh holy shit!”

Seonghwa looked between the two. “Kronian? What’s that?” 

“Everyone born into the fold falls under a specific category, determined by their strengths and abilities,” Hongjoong said. “Sometimes it’s easy to tell, sometimes it’s hard...for instance, we’re pretty sure Yunho was charitian, because he befriended practically everyone.”

“Taehoon was thenian, he knew...so much. Arguably everything.” Yeosang added. “People born into the kronian fold have a strange relationship with time. You exist both inside and outside of time simultaneously. It’s beneficial because you have an understanding of time that cannot be matched. The downside is, you can sometimes be affected by temporal distortions, like when Hongjoong went through that distorted wight burrow.” Yeosang sighed. “They’re usually hard to find, but that reaction to the time distortion is the biggest tell.” 

“But Seonghwa went through it with me and it didn’t affect him…”

“Probably because I was part of the distortion then,” Seonghwa said.

Yeosang nodded. “Experiencing a time distortion happening and watching one happen to someone else are two different things. He may have felt a little sick the first time but it wasn't enough to pay attention to." 

“That kind of makes sense?” Hongjoong said. “But god what a waste, learning we have a kronian when it does us literally no good.”

Seonghwa thought for a moment. “Yeosang,” he finally said. “Park Sumi...is she kronian, too?” 

Yeosang shook his head, but it was Hongjoong who spoke up. “Grandmother is undetermined, like me. Our whole family is undetermined, except for Grandpa Suho. He was kronian.” 

“If Sumi isn’t kronian...then she was able to see me in the mirror because of _my_ abilities, right?” 

Yeosang nodded slowly, unsure of where Seonghwa was going with this. “Teijo’s Mirror can do many things, but only a kronian can unlock its true potential.” 

“Could I do it again?”

“What do you mean?” Yeosang asked. “There’s only the one moon incense…”

“Yeah but there are lots of people born into the fold, right? All across space and time. Could I use the mirror to contact one of them? Maybe another...what did you call it...thenian? I could ask them about the blade...”

“It’s dangerous,” Yeosang said. “You’d need to know a specific individual, a specific time, and a specific location. They’d have to be near a reflective surface and have to know something about the blade.” 

Seonghwa’s eyes grew wide. “And if I knew of someone? Of a place and a time?”

“Theoretically you should be able to speak to them through the mirror.” 

“Could we interact? More specifically, could I take something from them? Like how I got the blade from Sumi?” 

“Yes…? I think so. This is all theoretical though...why? Who do you have in mind?”

Seonghwa smiled at them both, excitement dancing in his eyes. The gears were turning in his mind, faster and faster as the plan took shape. “I have...a super crazy idea. But if it works...if it works...ok, I’ll need your help!” He turned and dashed toward the mirror, sliding to a halt in front of it. 

Hongjoong and Yeosang followed slowly after, the former staring at his friend in shock.

“Do you have any idea what he’s planning?” Yeosang asked.

Hongjoong shook his head. “I’ve never seen him like this,” he said. “I’ve never seen a look like that on his face before.”

“Should we be concerned?”

“I don’t...think so? Seonghwa’s really responsible. Always has been. I can’t see him throwing that out now.” 

“Hurry up!” Seonghwa called. “We have one shot at this, and the window is small. We can’t mess this up. I’ll need you both to hold on to me, tightly, and when I yell I’ll need you to pull me back, ok?” 

“Uh...ok?” Hongjoong said. 

“Sure,” Yeosang said. 

“Ok ok...ok so grab on. “

Yeosang and Hongjoong shared a confused look before securing their arms around Seonghwa’s waist. Hongjoong’s face was smashed against Seonghwa’s back and as a result, he couldn’t see the mirror at all. Yeosang could see a small bit over his shoulder and that was it. He’d never actually used the mirror, however, and wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to see what Seonghwa saw. 

Seonghwa closed his eyes and focused on the scene in his head. He knew the exact moment he wanted, knew he was threading a needle but any earlier he might cause damage and any later would be too late. He needed it then, in the exact last second, as everything disappeared from sight, right before he hit the street. He opened his eyes as Dark Song’s shriek tore through the air. 

“What—“ Hongjoong’s grip slackened and Seonghwa slapped his arm. 

“No! Hold on! Get ready!” 

Hongjoong nodded and tightened his grip. “But you heard that, right?”

“Yes, that’s why you have to be ready!” 

Hongjoong nodded and tightened his grip. He caught Yeosang’s eye and wasn’t at all excited to see the other looked just as confused as he was. 

When it happened, it happened fast. The shrieks grew alarmingly loud, and both Yeosang and Hongjoong heard glass breaking. They felt Seonghwa lurch forward and scream _THIS WAY! HURRY!_ Seonghwa lurched forward again, and then he was screaming for them to pull him back. Hongjoong planted his feet and pulled, alarmed to find Seonghwa wasn’t moving. He pulled harder, glancing toward Yeosang to see him pulling as hard as he could as well. _Why is he so heavy?_ Hongjoong thought, pulling back with even more strength. 

Suddenly Seonghwa was coming back, and the three of them stumbled back into the room before collapsing into a heap on the floor. They all looked up at the mirror just in time to see Dark Song lunging at them, her claws coming through the mirror before the image faded and they were left alone. They watched as the last bits of the blood moon’s light faded, leaving the mirror cracked and empty, reflecting nothing but their faces. 

“Get off of me!” Yeosang yelled, shoving Seonghwa onto the floor. “You’re heavy as hell, you know that?”

Hongjoong barely heard him, unable to tear his eyes away from the reflection. He didn’t quite understand what he was seeing, and everything felt like it was in slow motion. He was too slow in registering what he was seeing, too slow in turning his attention to the pile of people at his feet, too slow in counting not three, but _four_ people in that pile. _Me, Yeosang, Seonghwa, and…_

Seonghwa sat up, dusting off his pants and pulling out the moon incense. “I found it,” he said. “Mission accomplished. But now I need help sanctifying it.” 

The new person reached for the blade, but Hongjoong tackled them in a hug before they could take it. 

“Hyung!” The other yelled as they were once more pulled to the floor. “Hyung, let up!” They laughed brightly, a sound Hongjoong had been so certain he would never hear again. 

Hongjoong ignored them, focused entirely on not crying in front of everyone. In the end, however, he didn’t care. In the end, the only thing that mattered was that they were there. Together. Alive. _All_ of them.

Hongjoong. 

Yeosang. 

Seonghwa. 

_Yunho._


	8. A Deal with the Devil

_07.09_

_I’ve met a lot of different people in my life. Different walks in life, different goals, different dreams._

_Different demons._

_When you’ve been around as long as I have, you get pretty good at recognizing who’s dealing with what; who’s in love with who, who’s ailing from what, etc. etc. They flock to me for various tonics, elixirs, and even potions, like a splash of mermaids to their own Ursula. And, like the fabled sea witch, I helped them all._

_For a price._

_I don’t care much for others, least of all humans, and it was never any bother when one or more of them re-entered my shop, screaming obscenities about this or that they didn’t read in the fine print. ‘A contract’s a contract,’ I would say, ‘and a deal’s a deal. I don’t much care how you pay but pay you will, one way or the other.’_

_Most of them paid in the end. Those that didn’t, well...everyone pays eventually._

_I don’t remember how I met Yeosang, to be honest. I was never really one to form bonds with others and as far as I knew that had never changed. For as long as I could remember, there was just me. And then, one day, there was Yeosang._

_He never really said much, never so much as cracked a smile. But he was there constantly. Asked after this or that remedy, always paid up front, always left immediately. The consistency was...pleasant. There were times I tried to get one over on him, of course there were. We weren’t friends by any means and I wasn’t going to not try just because he was a loyal customer. But he was always wise to my ways, always declined any extras or discounts I tried to throw in. One time I even lied to him about the price of one of my tonics, tried to sell it to him at a lower than normal price, but in the end he still paid the correct amount in full, no questions asked._

_This was our dance for years. It became somewhat of a goal of mine, trying to get him to accept a favor. Trying to get him to owe me a debt. He never fell for it, not once. Never even asked me for a favor of his own. His life wasn’t easy; he had his demons, ones even I couldn’t name, so rare as they were. He came in from time to time looking like even the slightest thing could set him off and, believe me, I tried. But he never gave in. Not once. Try as I might, I could not get him to be beholden to me._

_Then came Wooyoung._

_When Yeosang brought the boy to me, I was sure he was dead. I could tell by the look on Yeosang’s face that he was worried about the same thing. He explained the situation hastily; the boy had unwittingly fettered his soul to a shade and, after failing to earn his freedom, had been briefly possessed by the same shade. His body had rejected the new pseudo soul and as such, all that remained was an empty husk. Yeosang knew there was a way to revive him, but the window to do so was small and he didn’t know how to do it. He knew I would._

_I started in then with my same, drawn out spiel, attempting to outline all the time and effort I would have to put into such a task, in hopes that he would be more willing to become beholden to me. I didn’t get very far before he interrupted me._

_He’d pay any price, he’d said. He’d do anything I asked, as long as I saved his friend._

_Who was I to say no?_

_The process was complex. The boy wasn’t possessed of a cold soul, and thus the removal of his soul, as well as the attempted possession left him in a state that would be difficult to bring him back from. I set to work, healing the flesh while working out what to do about the lack of soul. There were enough traces of his stolen one that I could fashion into something usable, but I needed a host, some sort of spiritual essence that would nurture the soul fragments in a way that would allow the boy he once was to take over. Using too weak of an essence ran the risk of the whole thing dissipating and the fragments being lost, too strong and the boy would be nothing but a shambling, fleshy shade. I was never really one to form bonds with others, but my goal was so close, so well within my reach, that I didn’t hesitate._

_I used my own spiritual essence to nurture the soul fragments. I knew what that meant, knew that it would forge some sort of a bond between the two of us, but I knew it also meant I could control the spiritual essence, effectually helping the fragments to grow until they were strong enough to take over._

_So far as I could tell, the method was successful. I explained to Yeosang what it would mean, how his friend would be only a hint of the person that he used to be, but that he_ **_would_ ** _have his memories and enough of him to at least resemble the person he once was. I told him there was a risk that some of my spiritual essence may effect the soul fragments I was able to retrieve and thus, his personality may undergo some changes, but for the most part the soul should hold until he could get his own back. But until the soul fragments could take over, Wooyoung would need to remain in the Coma. Before then, he’d be blank, a nothing person that would no doubt alarm his friends and family._

 _Yeosang agreed to leave him, doing his best to explain to a conscious but empty Wooyoung why he was being left in my care - something I had not agreed to but could not bring myself to refute - instead of being escorted home. The boy didn’t respond, which didn’t surprise me, but as time went on and he became more aware, I was surprised to learn that he_ **_had_ ** _heard Yeosang._

_That didn’t stop him from being angry, however. Anger was the first emotion that was able to root itself and grow and for some reason, Wooyoung felt that anger was best directed at Yeosang. In the earlier days, I did my best to explain to him that Yeosang had saved his life, but it was like he couldn’t quite grasp that concept. Eventually, however, I realized that that was what he was most angry about._

_I thought I’d helped him, thought that by cobbling together a makeshift soul, I was giving Wooyoung a chance to live his life until such a time as he could get the rest of his soul back. It had never once occurred to me that he would be able to feel what he was lacking, and that that emptiness would threaten to drive him mad._

_As the cobbled soul grew stronger, he attempted - tearfully - to describe what it felt like. He likened it to leaving your house and knowing you forgot something but not know what, like knowing your brakes had gone out but not knowing why you needed them in the first place, like forgetting someone you were certain you’d never even met. The more he tried to explain, the more he cried, the more_ **_I_ ** _began to feel beholden to_ **_him_ ** _. After all, I’d been the one who did this to him. Though no matter how much he cried, or how terrible I felt, I couldn’t bring myself to wish I had never helped him at all._

_Somehow, he had become a part of my life. The bond we shared was far more profound than anything that could result from the sharing of spiritual essence, and when it all came down to it, I knew the only way to fix this was to retrieve what had been stolen from him. Both Yeosang and Wooyoung refuse to work with me on this, but that doesn’t matter. I’ve dealt with scarier creatures than shades before, and I’ve always done it alone._

_Besides, I’m not trying to steal anything. This isn’t a heist or a sting or anything that requires a group. This is just another day in the shop. I’m not going to cause a scene, I’m merely going to open my doors, put on a smile, and do what I do best._

_I’m going to make a deal._

_\- CS_

  
  


Yeosang was the first to ask, still clearly shocked as he stared at Yunho. “How?” He turned his attention to Seonghwa and asked again. “ _How?_ ”

“I don’t entirely understand it myself,” Seonghwa said. “But when you said I needed to know a specific time, place, and person, Yunho was the only person who came to mind. It was...kind of a gamble.” 

“No it wasn’t,” Yunho said, still laughing as Hongjoong clung to him. “You’re kronian. You knew what you were doing. You just needed to stop second guessing yourself and let your instincts take over.” He gave Seonghwa a knowing smile. “Trust yourself. It’ll make all of this a lot easier, I promise.” 

Seonghwa smiled back, but it was Hongjoong who spoke. “So you’re...real, right? You’re here?” He repeatedly poked at Yunho's cheeks, before squishing them both between his hands. "That really happened?"

Yunho nodded, answering his friend as best he could. “Cut it pretty clothe, though. I thought I wath a goner.” 

“So did we,” Hongjoong said, releasing the boy's cheeks and hugging him close once more. 

Yunho made a big show of rolling his eyes and acting exasperated, but he made no effort to push Hongjoong away. Seonghwa met his gaze and Yunho just chuckled; he could act exasperated all he wanted, Yunho was just as relieved to be alive as they were to see him as such. “Now,” he said, giving Yeosang a playful look. “What’s this I hear about you needing help sanctifying the moon incense?”

Yeosang refused to meet the other’s gaze. “I...um…”

“Yeosang forgot what to do,” Hongjoong said. Then, in a lower voice, he added, “Brother has Jongho.” 

“Oh.” When Yunho looked at Yeosang again all playfulness was gone, replaced by a studious, serious expression. “We’ll get him back, Yeosang. Don’t worry.” 

Seonghwa stared at him, amazed by how different he seemed. It felt like a decade had past since he’d seen Yunho last, but for the younger boy there had been mere seconds between when he pushed Seonghwa into the streets of the Dokkaebi Market, and when that very same person had pulled him through the mirror. The Yunho he was seeing hadn’t gone through some profound change due to having been made to sit with and ponder a near death experience; this was Yunho as he normally was: playful, kind, loyal, reliable. 

Yet, even as Seonghwa lamented the fact that it had only been him with which Yunho had been cold and rude, after everything he’d seen that night he couldn’t really blame the boy. He knew it had been Yunho’s way of trying to keep Seonghwa safe. To that point, he was certain even a seconds long near death experience had been enough to teach them all a lesson. 

There were better ways to protect people.

Yunho finally managed to get Hongjoong to release him, the both of them pushing themselves to their feet before the taller boy turned his attention to the Moon Incense. He slid the sheath off, taking a moment to examine the Tear of Kronos and the blade itself. Finally, he held out a hand to no one in particular. “It’s mostly done, we just need to anoint it with the holy waters of separation.” 

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong said, staring hopelessly at Yunho’s outstretched hand. “Please tell me you got the vial back from Mingi before he…” 

“Before he what?” Yunho looked up and met each person’s gaze. “What happened to Mingi?” 

“Same thing that almost happened to you,” Hongjoong said. “But _you_ have the holy water, right, Seonghwa?” 

Seonghwa shook his head slowly, but didn’t respond. He was staring at Teijo's Mirror, clearly lost in thought, and the others weren’t sure if they should even try to bother him. He hoped they wouldn't; he could feel those gears turning again, faster and faster, could feel an idea knitting itself into reality. He was fairly certain that Jongho was in the gymnasium with Brother, and he had to assume Wooyoung had handed the amulet over already. That took both of them off the board for the time being. He’d saved Yunho, had the moon incense...

So what else was there for them to seek in the hall of doors? If not the amulet or Jongho or the moon incense or even Yunho, what did that leave? In a hall full of random portals that could take them not only through space but through time itself, what was waiting to be found? They didn’t have the proper tools before, but they had since gained Yeosang and Yunho, as well as the moon incense. 

“Ok,” Seonghwa said grabbing everyone's attention, “ok, ok. Ok. Um...yes so...ok...this is all a theory, right? And regardless of whether or not it works I want establish that I don’t think I can use this for everyone, you know? It won’t work for people I haven’t met, so like...I don’t know that I can do anything for Hyung-bae--”

“That’s a damn shame,” Yeosang said, his voice flat and uninterested.

At the same time, Yunho brought a hand to his mouth and said, in an equally flat tone, “oh no, oh god, why?”

Hongjoong chimed in as well, jutting his bottom lip out. “That’s like, the fifth heartbreak I’ve experienced tonight,” he said. 

Seonghwa stared at them, slightly shocked by how much they just...did not care. Hongjoong and Yunho were some of the nicest people he’d met, so to see such indifference from them...that man must have been awful. “Right,” he finally said. “Well, so...yeah...but...anyway I think we can still save Mingi.” 

Everyone seemed far more excited about that. They all drew closer to Seonghwa, eager to hear how he planned on pulling this one off. Unfortunately, though the plan felt fully formed, he couldn’t quite get himself to put it into words. Still, he did his best. “It’s all theoretical,” he said. “But now that we’re all here, and we have the moon incense, the only thing left to seek are the holy waters and Mingi...both of which reside in the same place.” 

“But the mirror is broken,” Yeosang said, gesturing to the cracked glass. 

“Yeah, but the wight burrows aren’t,” Seonghwa said. “And now that we know what we’re looking for, we can use them to--”

“Yunho should sit this out,” Hongjoong said suddenly. 

Yunho turned to him quickly, the smile dropping from his face. “What? Why? I’m fine, hyung, I can help.” 

Hongjoong shook his head. “I just really think it’s best if you don’t.” 

Yunho frowned. “ _Why_ though?”

“Yunho is...kind of key,” Seonghwa said. “I don't have all the details yet but he has more spectral incense, and I imagine we’ll need to--”

“He can just give us some,” Hongjoong said quickly. “He doesn’t need to be there himself.” 

Yunho’s frown deepened, but he didn’t say anything else. 

Hongjoong sighed. “I’m sorry, ok? It’s nothing against you, I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” 

“But why?” Everyone turned to Yeosang, who was studying Hongjoong closely. “It’s not a good idea for us to split up right now, and you’ve yet to give us a reason to the contrary.” He folded his arms.

“And he’s charitian, which will give us the upper hand if we need any of the keepers to work with us,” Seonghwa added. 

“Plus, because he was trained by Taehoon, he has thenian impulses as well. The pros far outweigh any cons, Hongjoong. We need him.” 

Seonghwa studied his friend. It was apparent Hongjoong was asking Yunho to sit out in order to protect him from something, but he couldn’t figure out what made him think he needed to. What was more, Hongjoong had reacted when Yeosang brought up Taehoon. It had been subtle, but Seonghwa caught it, and he could tell by the way Yunho was studying the other that he had, too. Whatever was bothering Hongjoong had something to do with Yunho’s brother, of that much he was certain. But how? They’d been together since they’d left the hospital, if Hongjoong had encountered Taehoon, wouldn’t Seonghwa have seen him? He doubted it happened when they were separated at the hospital, Hongjoong had been far too lost and--

It all hit him at once.

“Keepers,” Seonghwa repeated, his voice low and shaking, “are souls that were trapped in the Coma with unfinished business.” A profound sadness washed over him then, and he could only hope the look he gave Yunho wouldn’t be interpreted as pity. No wonder those damned eyes had looked so familiar. “Hongjoong’s right. You shouldn’t come with us.” 

Yeosang’s jaw dropped. “Wait...is no one going to tell me what’s going on?” 

Yunho stared at Seonghwa, confused, but the older boy could tell he was working it out. He’d seen how Hongjoong reacted to the mention of his brother, could see the sadness on Seonghwa’s face...he’d put more vague clues together before. He practically heard the _click_ when Yunho figured it out. 

“Where is he?” He asked, turning to Hongjoong suddenly. “Where’s Tae?” 

That was all it took for things to click for Yeosang. “If it involves Taehoon,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle, “then they’re right, you should probably not get involved.” 

“I’m not going to just sit here and wait for you all to come back when I know full well you know where my fucking brother is!” Yunho snapped. He turned to Seonghwa then. “You mentioned wight burrows, right? Do those have something to do with it?” 

Seonghwa glanced from him to Hongjoong, who looked absolutely lost as to what to do. “Yunho, you just barely escaped being killed, you’re not ready to face this.” 

Yunho stood a bit taller and stared at Seonghwa with hard, defiant eyes. “I know my limits,” he said. “Where is he?”

“He’s not your brother anymore,” Hongjoong said. “He’s not our Tae.” 

Yunho ignored him. “ _W_ _here is he?_ ”

“Yu--”

“Just take me to him!" Yunho snapped. "We don't really have time to be arguing like this, and I've already said I can handle it. It's not really anyone's place to tell me otherwise."

Seonghwa once more looked to Hongjoong, who met his gaze and nodded. Whether or not he was ready to face the truth, the fact remained that they really didn't have a choice. Yunho was going to have to deal with it eventually. Seonghwa wished he’d been more tactful, that he hadn’t made it so easy for Yunho to figure out. If he’d left it alone, had just backed up Hongjoong to begin with, maybe he’d have never figured it out. 

On the way to the hall of doors, Hongjoong tried a few more times to convince Yunho to just let it go for the time being, but the boy refused and eventually, Hongjoong fell silent. Seonghwa apologized but the boy waved him off, saying it wasn’t his fault. He attempted to put on that same façade Seonghwa had seen earlier in the evening, all business and professionalism, but it was obvious he was worried about how Yunho was going to react. 

Hongjoong was right to be worried.

Once inside the hall of doors, it didn’t take Yunho long to find Taehoon. Actually saying something to him, however, proved to be more difficult. For a moment, one that felt as if it stretched on for far too long, Yunho just stared. Seonghwa couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind, what he was feeling. He decided to keep quiet, afraid anything he might try to say would come across wrong. Yeosang seemed to be considering doing the same. 

Hongjoong, however, joined Yunho, keeping his eyes forward as he stood by the younger boy’s side. “I realized it was him as soon as he spoke to us,” he said. “Earlier, when Seonghwa and I were here. I’d recognize that voice anywhere.”

“He spoke to you?” Yunho said, a hint of hope in his voice. 

Hongjoong nodded. “Only because I was here, though. He didn’t recognize me, Yunho, and he won’t recognize you. He’s gone. He’s not Tae anymore, he’s just a keeper.” 

Yunho was shaking his head before Hongjoong had even finished speaking. “He _will_ recognize me, I’m his _brother_ ,” he said. “You’ll see, he just has to--”

“Can I help you?” The Noteman asked with a sigh. He glanced up from his notebook, locking eyes with Yunho for only a moment before looking past him. His gaze fell on Seonghwa and he nodded. “Oh, you’re back.” He tilted his head slightly. “Yes, you’re more complete now. You stand a better chance at finding what it is you seek here.” 

“Taehoon,” Yunho said, his voice shaking. 

The Noteman glanced at him again, but there was no recognition in his eyes. He regarded Yunho no differently than he had regarded Seonghwa before: as if he was an unwanted distraction from his duties. 

Yunho didn’t give up. “Hyung, it’s me, Yu--”

“Jeong Yunho,” The Noteman finished, nodding. For a moment, everyone froze, waiting with bated breath to see what he said next. But rather than break into a smile, or pull his brother into a hug, the Noteman merely turned his attention to his notebook and began to flip back a few pages. “The Coma is quite fond of you,” he continued. “She’s pleased you didn’t perish tonight.” 

Hongjoong tugged gently on Yunho’s sleeve. “He doesn’t remember you as his brother,” he whispered. 

“He will,” Yunho said. He stepped closer to the Noteman, his eyes frantic. “You remember me, right?” 

The Noteman continued to nod, though he looked somewhat confused. “Yes? You’re a ghost vigilante, and a descendant of--”

“I’m your brother,” He said quietly. “You remember that, too, right?” 

The Noteman stared at him, his face completely blank. Without a word, the Noteman closed his notebook with a snap, set it down, and turned to begin digging through stacks of older notebooks. “I don’t have any record of you having a brother,” he said. “I’d have made a note of that, She would have made sure I did. She likes your family.” 

Seonghwa cringed. Not ‘I don’t have a brother’ or even ‘no I don’t remember that’. Just _I don’t have a record of you having a brother._ Completely detached from the situation. Existing not as a player in the story, but as an observer. The more the Noteman talked, the more Seonghwa was sure Hongjoong had been correct. Taehoon was more than likely gone.

“I have a brother,” Yunho said, his voice having grown so soft, the others struggled to hear him at all. “An older brother...T...Taehoon is his name.” 

At the mention of the name, The Noteman snapped his fingers and ran to a bookshelf that leaned against the other wall. He searched for a moment, before pulling out a rather ratty looking notebook. “Jeong Taehoon,” he said. “I do know that name.” He crossed back to Yunho, handing him the notebook. “He died a long time ago, though. Here, this will tell you all you need to know about him.” 

Yunho took the notebook without a word, staring hard at the worn leather cover. “He’s not dead,” he said quietly. “He’s not.” 

The Noteman narrowed his eyes, glaring at Yunho. “My notes are never wrong,” he said. “You’re welcome to take that with you, read it all if you must. The man you’re speaking of is dead, and there’s simply no way you could have been related. He died decades before you even set foot in the Coma.” 

Gripping the notebook hard, Yunho met the Noteman’s gaze, glare for glare. “He’s _not_ dead, that’s not possible. We’ve come here together!”

“I have no record of that.”

"You _have_ to have a record of it!" 

"No one by that name has set foot here in nearly sixty years."

“Why are you _lying_?” Yunho’s voice cracked as he pleaded with the keeper. “It’s ok, no one’s angry with you, you can still come home, you can--”

“I _am_ home,” The Noteman corrected. “This is where I belong. The Coma exists and I keep note of it. And thanks to the lot of you, there are far too many notes to be taken so if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” 

Yunho reached out for him but both Hongjoong and Yeosang pulled him back. Yunho shoved them off, turning back to the Noteman, no doubt with every intention of making him understand who he was, but the others grabbed him again. 

“He’s _gone,_ Yunho!” Yeosang said. “You have to let him go!” 

“He’s not gone,” Yunho snapped back, his voice heavy with grief. “He’s _not_! He’s in Sehwa Hospital, Ward A, 4th floor, room 3! He’s there, I visit him every day! He’s still alive, he’s still there!” 

Yeosang opened his mouth to say something more, but one look from Hongjoong and he snapped it shut. 

“He’s gone,” Hongjoong said, his voice shaking, but gentle. 

“The doctor's said there's still a chance,” Yunho said, his voice shaking. "He’ll wake up."

“He won’t, and you know he won’t.” Hongjoong shook his head. “This is his home now.” 

“But I can--”

“No, Yunho, you can’t.” Hongjoong gestured to the Noteman. “Look at him. Really look at him, Yunho. Not as his brother, or as someone who wants to save him...just look at him.” Seonghwa cringed slightly at the other's clipped tone; he knew Hongjoong knew Yunho better than anyone, knew he knew what he needed to hear but Seonghwa couldn't help feeling like he was being a little _too_ harsh. 

Regardless, Yunho did as he was asked. As he did, the tears that he’d been so clearly holding back finally began to fall.

“He doesn’t know who Taehoon is, because Taehoon existed before him. Do you understand that?” Hongjoong asked. Yunho nodded. “That’s not your brother. Not anymore. Your brother is, like you said, at Sehwa Hospital. And you need to accept that he won’t ever leave there, not the way you want him to.” 

“But…” Yunho shook his head. “But I promised everyone I’d bring him home. I can't return without him, not after I promised I’d save him.” 

“You can still save him, though,” Seonghwa said. The look he received from Hongjoong then made him recoil slightly, and he shook his head quickly. “Not as Taehoon, not the way you wanted, but as The Noteman.”

“Make sense quickly,” Hongjoong said. He glared at Seonghwa in a way that gave him goosebumps. He hadn't made the same mistake with Hongjoong as he had Yeosang; he knew the other cared about Yunho. He just hadn't known just how much until that moment, when he was staring into the eyes of not only a leader or friend, but of a big brother. Hongjoong had only ever been kind to Seonghwa, but that didn't keep the older boy from receiving his message loud and clear: _hurt him further and you'll be sorry._

Seonghwa nodded before clearing his throat and turning his attention to Yunho. “If Brother gets his way and successfully completes the Blood Ritual, he’s not just going to cross into our world, he’s going to destroy this one, too. The Coma will perish, and anyone residing within when that happens will be lost forever. So the way I see it, you have two choices. You can choose to stay here and try to get The Noteman to recognize you, further causing yourself emotional distress until you’re just as hollow as he is. Or you can stand with us, help us defeat Brother, and keep your promise. Neither option will give you your brother back the way you remember him, but you _can_ save what’s left of his soul."

“We couldn't save Taehoon,” Yeosang added, “but we can keep Jongho from suffering the same fate.” 

Yunho nodded slowly, refusing to look at any of them. 

“We need you with us,” Hongjoong urged. “I know you're dealing with a lot now, I can't imagine how much you must be hurting but...I need you to tell me you can deal with this because I need your heart in this. I’m not letting you go a step further if you’re not completely with us. I’m not losing you, too, not again,” he said, his voice cracking. “I _can’t._ ” 

Yunho looked at him then, his face covered in tears. In that moment, he looked so lost and broken, Seonghwa wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to finish out the mission with them. Hongjoong pulled him into a tight hug and said something to him that Seonghwa couldn’t quite make out, but that was ok. He was pretty sure it wasn’t meant for anyone else. When they pulled apart, Yunho’s brokenness had dimmed, having been replaced by a kind of angry determination that set Seonghwa’s mind at ease. 

“For what it’s worth,” Yeosang said, giving Yunho's shoulder a squeeze, “I am sorry for your loss.” He turned to Hongjoong. “For both of you.” Hongjoong nodded, and it was then that Seonghwa remembered that Taehoon had been Hongjoong’s best friend. 

He looked at Hongjoong, an odd pride blooming in his chest at the thought of being able to call him a friend. He’d been through so much and yet had worked so hard to still hold everyone together, despite what he must have been going through himself. He’d have to convince the others to jump him when they got back home and get him to actually talk to someone about it all, no doubt about that but...why had Hyung-bae ever been considered the leader of the ghost vigilantes? It was clear as day that the others looked to Hongjoong, not Hyung-bae, for guidance. He was the glue that held them together. As far as Seonghwa was concerned, _he_ was their leader, and he didn’t plan on answering to anyone else. 

Seonghwa frowned. Did he intend to join the Ghost Vigilantes? He didn’t think so; there were too many unanswered questions where they were concerned. But if his friends needed his help...yes, he could see himself with this group again. 

“Ok, so,” Hongjoong said, wiping at his face quickly. “We decided the pattern was 4th door, 3rd door, 5th door, right?” 

Seonghwa nodded, but Yeosang looked at them confused. “How’d you figure that out? I thought you couldn’t get the wight burrows to work?” 

“The Noteman told us,” Seonghwa said. “He said 4,3,5 should get us where we want to go.”

“Yeah that’s about the doors,” Yunho said. His voice was hoarse and his eyes were red but he seemed to be focused. “But you couldn’t get it to work?” 

Hongjoong and Seonghwa shook their heads. 

“That’s weird,” Yunho said. 

“Yeah, I doubt the Noteman would give you false instructions,” Yeosang said.

Seonghwa nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it benefits him to help us, not hinder us.” 

"Are you sure you counted right?" Yeosang asked.

Hongjoong narrowed his gaze before turning to Yunho. "Would you also like to insinuate that I don't know how to count to four?"

Seonghwa rolled his eyes. "No one's insinuating that."

"I was," Yeosang said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"No need to insinuate, just say it," Yunho said. "I _know_ he can't count to four." 

“Just come look at the damn door,” Hongjoong said, ignoring him. “Maybe they can figure out what we did wrong?” They made the short trek to the door, Hongjoong counting as they went. When they stopped in front of the fourth door, Yunho actually laughed.

Hongjoong gave him an exasperated look. “What?”

“I know what you did wrong,” he said. 

“Ok? So tell us.” 

Yunho looked from person to person, a small smile on his face, like there was some sort of joke that the rest weren’t in on. “I'm assuming everyone else sees it?” 

“Everyone else sees _what_?” Yeosang asked. 

Yunho pointed to the door in front of them. “This is the door you went through?” 

“Yes,” Hongjoong said, growing increasingly more exasperated with each question.

Yunho laughed again. “Wow. I was joking but I guess you really can't count to four. There's no door here.”

Everyone turned to him in confusion, ready to protest, but he held up a hand. “Obviously you all see a door, I'm just telling you what I see, and what I see is just a wall.”

“So Yunho’s door blind,” Seonghwa said. “Normally I'd say 'that's not a real thing' but after the night I've had? I'll allow it. I hesitate to see how that’s helpful though.” 

“It might not be,” Yunho said. “But...you said The Noteman told you to go through the fourth door, right? Well, if he was the one who figured out the pattern…”

The three exchanged confused glances, before looking back to Yunho and waiting for him to finish. When he realized no one was going to offer any kind of theory, his shoulders slumped. “Really? You guys are no fun.” 

“Yunho, I swear to god,” Hongjoong said. 

“Whether he remembers it or not, the Noteman is still my brother,” Yunho said. “So it doesn’t really matter if _you_ see a door there, because if I can’t see it then…?” 

“Then the Noteman probably didn’t, either,” Yeosang said. “And if he’s the one who figured out the pattern then he wouldn’t have included this door.” 

Yunho pointed to the next door. “As far as I can tell, _that’s_ the fourth door.”

“Not trying to be a downer or anything,” Seonghwa said, “But if we go through the wrong door we could get seriously lost. We need to be sure the Noteman was the one who figured out the pattern, he could have just been repeating what he was told by someone else. And even if he did figure out the pattern, how can we be sure he doesn’t see every door?” 

“You ask,” Yunho said. 

“We can’t just ask,” Seonghwa said. 

“Why not?” 

“Because…” Seonghwa struggled to think of a reason. “Because things aren’t usually that easy?” 

Yunho stared at him for a moment, then turned and approached the Noteman. Yeosang, Hongjoon, and Seonghwa watched as the two argued for a moment, before the Noteman finally relented and followed Yunho back to the group. 

Yunho pointed at the door in front of them, his expression unreadable. “Describe this door, please.” 

The Noteman stared at the door, then looked back at Yunho. “It's flat. Flush with the wall. Same color as the wall, too. The door knob is invisible too. It's almost like there's no door there at all, and it's just a wall. No, wait. That's exactly what it's like. It's just a wall.” He turned to leave. 

“Wait!” Yunho stepped in front of him. “So just to be clear, you don’t see a door here?”

“No I don’t. Because it’s a wall. I have a lot of work to do.” Yunho stepped aside and let him pass, before looking back to Seonghwa. 

“He said there’s no do--”

“I was there, Yunho.” He sighed. “I guess some things _are_ that easy.” 

Yunho smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m...not sure any part of that was necessarily easy.”

Seonghwa gave him a sympathetic look but kept quiet, not wanting to say something else that might come out wrong. He looked to the others, who were both staring at him expectantly. With a sigh, Seonghwa stepped up to the new door. He glanced once more at the others before taking a deep breath and pulling the door open. He briefly remembered the sickness he felt when Hongjoong ran through the other door and hesitated, choosing instead to poke his head through first and get a look at the other side. 

The room on the other side was dark, which was to be expected, but it was also different than the hall behind him. Seonghwa let the breath he was holding out all at once and stepped fully through before turning and motioning for the others to follow. “Looks like it worked,” he said. He smiled at Yunho. “I guess you’re in charge of doors.”

“I think I can handle that,” Yunho said. 

Moving through the remaining halls took a bit longer than they’d anticipated, as each door dropped them in a random spot in the hall and they had to make their way back to the beginning before Yunho could start searching for the correct door. The Noteman was present in each hall, as well, and it was obvious to the others that his presence still bothered Yunho, but he did a fairly good job of ignoring him. What was more surprising, however, was that the Noteman seemed to grow more interested in them as time went on. The Noteman in the final room even went as far as to smile at them, and the expression on his face looked almost proud. 

The final room itself was small, not much larger than a closet. Seonghwa found himself thinking back to the storage room at his Sehwa. It felt like years had passed since he’d followed Wooyoung into the small room and, subsequently, into the Coma. The room they were in then was much smaller than the storage closet and subsisted of just two doors; the one they had entered through, and a large metal one on the opposite wall. In the center of the door was a large metal plate that read simply: Morgue. 

Seonghwa swallowed hard. “Wooyoung must have held us in there,” he said. He shoved his hands in his pockets to try to hide how much they were shaking; he felt more confident with the others behind him but the memory of what happened in that room was still fresh in his mind and unlike when he saved Yunho, he didn’t really have a plan to save Mingi. He’d tried to think of one on the way there but had come up with nothing aside from using the spectral incense to calm the creature. The biggest issue he faced was the fact that Seonghwa himself was in that room, as well, and as far as he could remember, there wasn’t even a millisecond between when he fled the room and when Dark Song murdered Mingi. Which left them with two choices: go in before Dark Song entered the room and risk a time distortion, or let Mingi die and retrieve the vial from his corpse. 

“If you share your concerns with the class,” Hongjoong said, snapping him out of his thoughts, “we might be able to help.” 

“Concerns?” Seonghwa asked. “What co--”

“No offense,” Yunho said with an apologetic smile, “but you look constipated. Something’s clearly bothering you.” 

“And we know you know how to open doors,” Hongjoong added, “so it’s got to be something else.” 

That got a chuckle out of Seonghwa. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head slightly. “I just...I know we don’t have a lot of time but the window here is so small, almost non-existant and I...I don’t know what to do.” 

The others exchanged a look and Hongjoong sighed. “Ok well...show us the window already.” 

“It’s just...I want to save Mingi, but I can’t think of a way to do so. Not without causing some sort of time distortion.” 

“I think a time distortion is fine,” Yeosang said, gesturing to the room. “We’re currently in one, after all.” 

“Right, but we know the consequences of this kind of distortion.” Seonghwa shook his head. “We don’t know what will happen if past me sees present me.”

“What happened the first time?” Yunho asked. “When you saw yourself before?” 

“What?”

“Well, there was a time when past you and present you were the same person, right?” Seonghwa nodded. “So what happened when you saw future you?” 

“Oh. I didn’t see future me.” 

Yunho raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” 

Seonghwa opened his mouth to answer, but the words died as a realization hit him. “Oh...oh Mingi you _asshole_ .” He laughed. “He made me run, said if I tried to help him Jongho would die.” The words came out faster and faster, and as the pieces fit together and he figured out what had actually happened in that room, Seonghwa found that he was actually _excited._ “He said the only way to save the waking world and Jongho was to go but I think...I think he knew. I think he _saw us._ ” When he turned back to the others, there was a fire in his eyes. “Ok, here’s the plan.” 

“We’re not getting out of this alive,” Mingi said, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“Yes we are!” Seonghwa yelled from behind him. 

Another shriek rang out, this one closer than the last. Mingi looked up to try to see the creature’s approach and instead came face to face with Hongjoong. Mingi opened his mouth to say something, but Hongjoong quickly brought a finger to his lips before looking over his shoulder and waving for someone to follow. Mingi watched as Yunho poked his head through the door, locking eyes with his friend and giving him a reassuring smile. Mingi returned the smile and nodded. Yeosang followed shortly after, moving further into the room and doing his best to see how far off the flesh thrall was. It wasn’t until he saw Seonghwa again, this time looking at him through the door with a serious expression, that he realized what was going on. 

“You said faith is powerful, right? No matter what that faith is in?” The Seonghwa behind him asked. 

“Seonghwa...”

“Then have faith in me! I’m going to get us out of here and--” 

Everyone in the room froze and glanced at each other with wide eyes and Mingi had to suppress the urge to laugh. It felt ridiculous to find the current situation funny, but that only made it funnier. 

“Seonghwa, listen to me.”

“No! No, _you_ listen to _me!_ I may not be very happy with you right now and I trust you not at all but I’m not going to let you die here!”

A soft smile graced Mingi’s features. He hadn’t known Seonghwa long and hadn’t been happy about Hongjoong so willingly accepting him into the fold, but he couldn’t deny he was a good person. Knowing what he knew then, Mingi would not have blamed him for wanting him to die as painfully as possible, but no. He’d wanted to save him. And, as he made eye contact with the Seonghwa across the room, he realized he hadn’t stopped trying. What was more, he’d managed to save Yunho as well, and looked just as determined as any of the ghost vigilantes ever had. He didn’t know where Seonghwa had come from, but in that moment he found himself desperately hoping he stuck around in the future. But, Mingi knew he also needed him to stay far, far away. He raised his voice slightly to grab the other Seonghwa's attention. “Once you’re free, run.” 

“Once _we’re_ free.” 

Mingi ignored him. “Don’t look back. Just run. I’ll distract it long enough for you to find someplace to hide. Once you’re clear of her, find Hongjoong and get to Sehwa University as soon as possible.” He met Yeosang’s gaze and added, “Jongho will need your help.” 

“I swear to god, you and Yunho with your ‘don’t look backs’ and your ‘let me sacrifice myselfs’.” Yunho jumped at that, turning to give the Seonghwa in the doorway an apologetic look as the tips of his ears turned red. The older boy waved him off with a roll of his eyes. 

Mingi wracked his brain for anything he could say to get Seonghwa out of the room without him looking back and seeing everyone. Who knew what would happen then. But Seonghwa seemed hell bent on saving him, and he wasn’t going to leave him to die for just anything. No, Mingi needed something good, something that would force him to abandon him. He needed something big.

“No!” Seonghwa screamed behind him.

Something Seonghwa cared about more than anything.

“We’re both--”

No, not some _thing._ Some _one._

“--getting out o--”

Mingi raised his voice even more, cutting the other off. “If you try to save me Jongho dies.” 

Short, sweet, to the point. Mingi nodded as Seonghwa fell silent. 

“You have to choose, me or him,” he said. “And I honestly believe he needs to live. He’s still just a kid, don’t let Brother do this to him.” 

“But--”

 _No buts,_ Mingi thought. “When you’re free, run. Don’t look back. It’s up to you now; you have to save Jongho and the Waking World.” 

“How?” 

He didn’t miss the helplessness in Seonghwa’s voice then, and even though he knew he’d already solved the whole thing, Mingi still gave the other Seonghwa a reassuring smile. “You’ll figure it out.” 

The tied up Seonghwa couldn’t see it, however, asking again “ _How_?” He sounded so small and broken, but no one had time to contemplate it.

Dark Song came barreling into the morgue then, ripping the door off its hinges and sending it flying into the room. The others ducked to avoid it and it slammed into the other wall, breaking some glass vials as it did. Yunho lit a couple of sticks of spectral incense and shoved them in Dark Song’s face, causing the creature to recoil as it continued to shriek. The binds holding Seonghwa in place snapped, and for a moment it was as if everything fell away and all that remained were Mingi and Seonghwa, back to back. Mingi held his breath as he waited for Seonghwa to make a decision. 

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”

Mingi smiled once more. “Don’t be.” He met the other Seonghwa’s gaze again. “Just win this thing.” He craned his neck around once he heard the door slam, attempting to see if Seonghwa had actually left the room. When he failed to find him, he turned back to the others. “Ok ok ok get me out of these!” 

Hongjoong and Seonghwa were already heading to him, making quick work of the ropes at his hands and feet. Yeosang, seeing how low Yunho’s incense was, moved to help him light a few more. 

“I told you I wasn’t going to let you die here,” Seonghwa said once Mingi was freed. 

“Told you you’d figure it out,” Mingi shot back, his smile growing larger as Hongjoong pulled him into a quick hug.

"Don't think this doesn't mean we aren't discussing plan B," Hongjoong said. 

“Can we head back now?” Yeosang asked, his eyes darting from the screaming flesh thrall to the others and back again. “I’d love to not use up what spectral incense we have left here.” 

“I’d also like to be not staring at this shrieking creature, if you don’t mind,” Yunho added. “If we could...you know…” He jerked his head back toward the door. 

Seonghwa gestured for Mingi to head through the door. “After you.” 

Mingi rolled his eyes but stepped through the door just the same, followed by the others. Yunho was the last to step through, holding the incense at arms length for as long as possible and tossing it at the flesh thrall’s feet before slamming the door shut behind them. They all let out a breath once the door was shut, and all screamed when something - likely Dark Song - slammed against it. The door rattled in its frame but held firm. 

Yunho began to fidget slightly. “Want to not be here,” he said in a light, sing-song tone. “Want to be anywhere but here, honestly.” 

They left the small room, stepping back into the hall and closing the door slightly behind them. Once in the hall, they were at a loss as to where to go; the pattern wouldn’t work in the opposite direction, and they didn’t take note of what doors had dumped them into each hall. Yunho suggested they talk to the Noteman again and Seonghwa volunteered, not wanting to make him or Hongjoong face that loss anymore than they had to. With the Noteman’s help, they managed to find their way out of the hall of doors and soon were all gathered in the first floor corridor of Sehwa University. 

Once they had a moment to breathe and everyone was caught up, Mingi and Yunho set about sanctifying the Moon Incense. Once it was done, Yunho presented the blade to Seonghwa, who couldn’t help but once more get lost in its beauty. As clear and bright and clean as the blade had been before, it was even more so now. The dim hallway lights seemed to get brighter in the blade’s reflection, and the whole thing seemed to be giving off a blue-white glow.

Suddenly, the blade’s sheath shut with a loud _click,_ jarring Seonghwa out of his trance. He blinked a few times and when he looked up, Mingi and Yunho were staring at him with identical expressions that seemed half amused, half confused. He quickly glanced to the others, but they were staring at him the same way. Yunho raised the blade slightly, once more offering it to Seonghwa, and when he spoke, his voice was deep and serious. 

“Would you two like a moment alone?” 

Hongjoong was the first to laugh, followed by Mingi. Yunho’s resolve broke when Seonghwa snatched the Moon Incense out of his hands and shoved it in his bag, grumbling. Seonghwa looked at Yeosang for any kind of help but was distressed to find even he was doing his best to hold back his laughter. 

“Is this how it’s going to be all the time??” He asked. The question was met with a loud chorus of YES’s that had him stomping off down the corridor, trying to keep a straight face. The others followed after shortly, making jokes or just poking fun at each other. Yunho and Mingi also explained that the different phases of the moon have different effects on people born into the fold, and since the Moon Incense was said to have been crafted from lunar materials, that was likely the reason as to why it caused Seonghwa to zone out as much as it did. Even with the explanation they continued to tease him about it, their laughter echoing off the walls as they headed toward the gymnasium.

The danger they were heading toward, the significance of the battle that awaited them never left the front of their minds. The night had been long and dark and had threatened to inflict a devastating punishment for their meddling, and they had barely managed to avoid it. Still, through it all they had managed to find each other, and with them came an impossible joy that they were unwilling to relinquish. There was also a power in their togetherness, one that wasn’t yet complete but that was striking and calming just the same. Brother had worked hard to tear them apart and keep them separated and it had finally become clear to them why. Hyung-bae’s passing had taken nothing from them; inversely Seonghwa had almost completed them. Hongjoong had felt it the moment they’d run into each other in the train station, and with every person they pulled toward them, that feeling had only grown. 

With a fond smile, Hongjoong grabbed Yeosang’s arm and pulled him along as he ran to catch up with the others. He threw his other arm around Seonghwa’s shoulders and pulled him closer as they all listened to Yunho and Mingi banter back and forth. _Yes,_ Hongjoong thought as he looked from person to person, _this is how it’s supposed to be. We’re nearly there._

The gymnasium finally came into view and they froze once they saw a figure standing in front of the door. They didn’t quite look like they were guarding the door, rather it looked more like they were waiting for someone. Seonghwa stared at the figure, something about them nagging at his mind. The figure had its back to them and Seonghwa could just barely make out the design on the back of their jacket...a design he was _certain_ he’d seen before. 

The figure clapped its hands together and turned to them quickly, its lips pulling back into a huge smile, revealing teeth that were definitely too sharp to be human. “There you are. Took you long enough,” the figure said. “I’ve been waiting here all night.” The blue flames on their jacket seemed to come to life in the dim light of the corridor, dancing and flickering with their every move.

“Listen,” Hongjoong said, ignoring how Yunho and Seonghwa and Yeosang tried to pull him back. “We don’t have a lot of time, so either get ou--”

“Oh, you certainly don’t have any time at all,” the figure said. “You probably need to get through this doors as soon as possible or the Waking World will be lost.” They sighed, directing their attention to the fingernails of one hand. “Problem is, I’m not feeling very much like I want to move at the moment.” 

Seonghwa huffed, tired of the pageantry. “So what do you want this time? I’m not giving you anyone else’s name.” 

Hongjoong stepped back slightly as the individual came closer. “Seonghwa? Who…”

“Mr. Dokkaebi,” Yunho said, his voice low and poisonous. “You’ve met him before, he’s just usually more hospitable.” 

“I’m usually in a better mood,” Mr. Dokkaebi said. “And I can be in a good one again, if you’re willing to make a deal.” 

“What do you _want_?” Seonghwa asked again. 

Mr. Dokkaebi’s smile grew somehow larger as he surveyed the group before him. “I simply want you all to make me a promise. If you do, I’ll not only allow you to enter through these doors, I’ll even go as far as to assist you in your endeavor.” 

Seonghwa scowled at him. “You’ll help us fight Brother? After you went through so much trouble to help him earlier? Pardon me for not believing you.”

“Brother,” Mr. Dokkaebi snapped, the smile dropping from his face, “is not who I was helping. He simply stood to benefit from my plan at the time.” 

“You almost got Yunho killed!” Seonghwa nearly yelled.

Mr. Dokkaebi tilted his head slightly. “Funny, I don’t believe it was _me_ the young charitian was willing to die for.” 

Seonghwa’s scowl deepened, but he said nothing more. The tips of his ears were burning, and he couldn’t tell if it was from anger or shame. 

“Who stood to benefit?” Hongjoong asked, drawing everyone’s attention. “The deal you made with Brother...who were you doing that for?” 

“I really don’t think we can trust him,” Seonghwa said.

“Then trust me.” Hongjoong met his gaze. “Ok?” 

Seonghwa nodded and threw one last scowl at Mr. Dokkaebi. He took a step back, joining the others who were congregated behind Hongjoong. Though Mr. Dokkaebi had the advantage when it came to height, and though he’d managed to make Seonghwa feel rather small and intimidated in every encounter, it was Hongjoong who had the more commanding presence. Seonghwa had seen snippets of it before, but it was still awe inspiring. Following someone like him made pretending to be brave easy.

Mr. Dokkaebi seemed to see it, too, because he didn’t look down on Hongjoong. He’d taken him seriously, approached him with respect, and it seemed that Mr. Dokkaebi was more than willing to return the favor. “He’s a good kid, he’s just a little lost. He doesn’t deserve what’s happening to him, I know you agree with that.” He found Yeosang’s gaze. “I know you _all_ agree with that.”

Yeosang clenched his jaw, but it was Hongjoong who spoke.

“Wooyoung,” he said with a nod. “You were trying to help Wooyoung.” 

Mr. Dokkaebi nodded as well. 

“You’ve done all you can to help Wooyoung,” Yeosang said, his voice surprisingly bitter. “We both did. He’s made his choices, he’s got no one to blame but himself.” 

Mr. Dokkaebi narrowed his gaze. “You don’t know what it’s like for him. You don’t know how much _pain_ he’s in.” 

“And you do?” Hongjoong asked. The question wasn’t accusatory, but Mr. Dokkaebi rose to his full height nonetheless. 

“Yes.” 

Hongjoong turned to Yeosang, a knowing expression on his face. “He’s the one?” Yeosang nodded. Hongjoong returned the gesture and turned back to Mr. Dokkaebi. “Well then, it looks like I already owe you a debt.” He chuckled at the look of confusion on the apothecary’s face. “You achieved what I couldn’t,” he clarified. “You saved Wooyoung’s life.” 

“He’s hardly alive,” Mr. Dokkaebi said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. 

“But you tried. You got _some of him_ back.”

“I saved what was left, he’s nothing like he once was.” 

“I’m trying to say thank you, damn.” Hongjoong smiled, shaking his head. “What we’re about to do...the chances of us succeeding are slim. We may very well all die tonight, and I cannot in good conscience ask you to fight alongside us knowing that’s the case. But regardless of whether or not you think it to be true, you saved Wooyoung. As previously stated, for that I owe you a debt.” Hongjoong clapped his hands together. “State your terms again. We’ll agree to them.” Everyone nodded in agreement, except Seonghwa and Yeosang. 

“I never got a straight answer out of you,” Seonghwa said. “About whether or not you provided the eldritch venom Wooyoung used to poison Yeosang.” Every eye was on Seonghwa then, mixed looks of shock and confusion on each of them. 

“Eldritch venom?” Mingi asked. 

At the same time Yunho, eyes wide, asked “ _Wooyoung_ did that?” 

“You were poisoned?” Hongjoong asked. “When?”

“Earlier this evening, it doesn’t really matter,” Yeosang said. He turned to Seonghwa. “Why would you not assume he got that from Brother?” 

Seonghwa’s eyes never left Mr. Dokkaebi. The two stared each other down, each waiting for the other to give. Finally, Mr. Dokkaebi sighed and shook his head. “Let’s get one thing straight, tutor.” He gave Seonghwa a look that made his blood run cold. “Regardless of what you think of _me_ , _Wooyoung_ is a good person. The things he does in Brother’s name cause him great pain, physically and otherwise. I will never do anything to add to that pain. Ever. You have my word on that.” 

“Which means a lot,” Yunho said quickly, reading the look of disbelief on Seonghwa’s face. “He can be a pain in the ass but he always keeps his word. If you don't want to trust him, trust me. I'll vouch for him." 

Seonghwa searched the man’s face and, when he found no trace of deceit, sighed and nodded. “Fine. Tell us what you want. We’re all on board.” 

“Nothing too grandiose,” Mr. Dokkaebi said. He attempted to appear more like the salesman he’d been when Seonghwa had entered his shop, but there was an edge to his voice that once more reminded Seonghwa of just how sharp his teeth always looked. “I merely ask that you refrain from harming Wooyoung. Do what you must to Brother and his pet, but leave Wooyoung be.” 

“We can’t make that promise.” Everyone turned to Yeosang, who simply shook his head. “His loyalty is to Brother. Our focus is saving Jongho and stopping the Blood Ritual. If Wooyoung gets in the way of that we’ll do what we must.” 

“Not if you can’t even get into the room.” Mr. Dokkaebi crossed his arms across his chest and straightened his back, rising to his full height. “I’m not moving for anything less than a promise.” Yeosang attempted a retort, but Mr. Dokkaebi held up a hand. “This is _not_ a negotiation. I let you pass, and in return you spare Wooyoung. Those are the terms.”

“And we agree to them in full,” Hongjoong said quickly. He gave Yeosang an intimidating glare. “We _all_ do, right?” Everyone nodded in agreement before voicing their promise. In the end, only Yeosang remained. 

“You forget,” Mr. Dokkaebi said, “that I was there that day. I saw how you reacted.” His features softened, and for the first time he looked gentle. Vulnerable, even. “I know he hurt you, but I also know you care about him.”

“I don’t.”

“He wouldn’t be able to hurt you if you didn’t.”

“That’s--”

“You risked your life to bring him to me. You were willing to beholden yourself to me, just so he could live.” Mr. Dokkaebi thought for a moment. “So consider this: agree to these terms, promise not to harm Wooyoung, and I’ll consider your debt paid.” 

Everyone looked at Yeosang in surprise. 

“You…” Hongjoong shook his head. “You said Mr. Dokkaebi saved him, you never mentioned your own involvement.” 

“Because it didn’t matter.” 

Hongjoong frowned. “It does to us.”

“If you had said something we would have tried to help,” Mingi said. 

Yunho nodded. “I can’t believe you went up against Brother alone, you know we would have stood behind you.”

“I didn’t go up against anyone,” Yeosang spat. “I snuck him out and took him to the dokkaebi, that’s it.” 

“You made a deal to save his life,” Seonghwa said, his voice gentle. 

“And he’s hated me for it every day since.” Yeosang glared at them all. “What’s your point? He still can’t be trusted. He made his choice.” 

“He didn’t choose anything,” Mingi said. “He was tricked.” 

Mr. Dokkaebi watched them argue back and forth, his brow furrowed. Suddenly, he froze, his eyes growing wide. “They don’t know, do they?” Everyone turned to him, confused looks on their faces. 

“No,” Yeosang said, his voice low. “And I’d like to keep it that way.” 

Mr. Dokkaebi smiled, _actually_ smiled, still gentle, still vulnerable. “They’re your friends, Yeosang. They won’t blame you. Let them help.” 

Yunho tilted his head slightly. “Blame you? For what?”

“For what happened to Wooyoung,” Mr. Dokkaebi said. 

Mingi shook his head. “That’s ridiculous, why would we blame you for that? You had nothing to do with it.” 

Yeosang sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I had everything to do with it, actually. Wooyoung wasn’t supposed to return to The Coma after we’d found out he’d had contact with Brother. He was here that night because I asked him to meet me.” 

“That hardly makes it your fault,” Seonghwa said.

“I had to cancel,” Yeosang said. “I thought he knew but I must not have told him in time. So he was just wandering the school alone. Brother must have known we were aware of what he was trying to do and thought that was his only chance.”

Hongjoong laughed, but the sound was bitter and empty. “This is why you should have talked to us about this.” He sighed and shook his head, clearly unimpressed. “Wooyoung got your message, Yeosang. He was complaining about it before my music lesson that night. I tried to explain to him why we were asking him to stay away but he’d gotten a lot of bad news that week and I know he felt like we were all turning our backs on him. I was worried he was going to convince himself that we didn’t want him around so I asked him to meet me later that evening so we could talk more. He never showed up.” He gave Yeosang a sad smile. “He wasn’t there to meet you, he was there to meet _me._ And I could have told you that if you’d just _talked_ to us.” 

“I…” A faint blush settled on Yeosang’s cheeks and he stumbled over his words, clearly embarrassed and confused by the sudden revelation. “I didn’t...it...you didn’t exactly speak up either!”

“And we _will_ be talking about that,” Yunho and Seonghwa said in unison. 

Hongjoong waved them off, his own cheeks tinting slightly. “You know you don’t have to hide from us, right?”

“I just...he was our friend and I thought I--”

“You’re our friend, too,” Mingi said. “We were never going to blame either of you for what happened, we get it. And I bet Wooyoung does, too.”

“Wooyoung hates me,” Yeosang started, but Mr. Dokkaebi quickly shook his head.

“Wooyoung’s in a constant state of pain and he’s blaming you for _that_. He’s angry with you because you didn’t let him die, that’s it. He was just as angry with me at one point, but _I_ didn’t hide from it. I _talked_ to him.” 

Yeosang dropped his gaze. “It’s not that easy,” he muttered.

“It’s not supposed to be,” Yunho said with a soft smile. “But when you care about people, you do it anyway. I know you still care about Wooyoung, and he still cares about you, too. He wouldn’t still be angry at you if he didn’t.”

“But it’s not just him, it’s all of you.” Yeosang looked up at the others, tears in his eyes. “We almost lost Yunho and Mingi, we’ve definitely lost Taehoon, and we’re about to lose Jongho.”

“We’re not about to lose Jongho,” Yunho said, frowning. “We’re going to get him back and stop the blood ritual, just watch.” 

Yeosang shook his head. “Wooyoung stopped talking to him because of me, did you know that? They were best friends before I got involved and now Wooyoung can't stand to be around him and it's my fault because I couldn't protect him. Just like I can’t protect any of you. I’ve never been able to. And now we’re here, about to face the very thing we’ve been preparing for and we don’t have any time and you’re asking me to promise not to hurt Wooyoung when I can’t even promise not to hurt any of _you_.” He laughed bitterly. “No matter what I do or how hard I try, all I can manage to do is watch while others get hurt.”

The room was quiet for a moment, seemingly confirming what Yeosang had said. Seonghwa studied him for a moment; he’d seemed so off since they’d made it to the school, had seemed distracted and scared and small where he was usually so confident and reassuring. He thought back to his talk with Jongho, about everything Jongho had been through since arriving in The Coma, how he thought he’d go mad if he had to weather it all alone. But he hadn’t been alone, had he? He thought about the way he’d talked about Yeosang, how upset he’d been when he said Yeosang thought he didn’t trust him. The Coma was a nightmare but the boy Seonghwa had seen earlier that evening, though desperately wanting to return home, had still been able to make a life for himself. 

Seonghwa smiled as he remembered something. “Jongho adores you, Yeosang. He hugged you so hard today, Hongjoong and I thought you were being attacked, and he almost cried at the thought of you being unhappy with him. He hates this place, and he wants to go home, there’s no doubt about that but the boy I saw today was almost _happy_ , and that’s partly your doing.” He placed a hand on Yeosang’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “You’re right, you can’t protect us, not anymore. But that’s not because you’re incapable of doing so.” 

Hongjoong nodded. “It’s because you _did_ keep us safe, long enough for us grow and learn enough to get into our own troubles. You’ve done your part, Yeosang, and we’re all here having this conversation because you did it _well._ ”

“My brother would say the same,” Yunho added. “What happened to him wasn’t your fault. He was the one who kept coming here on his own. He knew the risks and was confident what he was doing was worth taking them.” 

“But Wooyoung and Jongho--”

“Are still alive,” Mingi said. “We can still help them, I believe that. And we can save them, because you taught us how. Your goal now is not to keep us all safe, it’s to keep Jongho safe. And you’re not the only one trying to achieve that. We’re all behind you.” 

Yeosang looked from person to person, his eyes swimming with emotion. He wiped at them hastily and nodded, before turning his attention to Mr. Dokkaebi.

The apothecary stepped forward with a gentle, knowing smile. “You brought Wooyoung to me because you knew I could save him. Let me do that. All I need from you is that promise.” 

“I promise,” Yeosang said. “I promise I won’t harm Wooyoung.” 

Mr. Dokkaebi nodded and clapped his hands together. As the others stepped up beside him he turned on his heels, his smile twisting into a menacing grin. Standing there, shoulder to shoulder, they could almost feel the atmosphere shift. They could all feel it then, not just Hongjoong. The six of them together...they were almost complete, and the last couple pieces were so very, very close. Everything they’d felt leading up to that moment - uncertainty, fear, sadness, shame, loss - melted away, until only hope remained.

They shared a single, solitary thought as the apothecary stepped forward and pulled the gymnasium doors open with a flourish. Beyond them was danger, darkness, maybe even death, but they weren’t facing it alone. They were together, a family, stronger and more powerful than any entity that may stand against them. And as they exchanged one last glance before stepping through the doorway, that shared thought solidified, spurring them forward toward whichever fate awaited them.

_There’s no turning back now._

**Author's Note:**

> This au started percolating when the Fever story snippets started coming out, and KQ encouraged ATINY to write their own version of ATEEZ' story. It became an actual idea when I finished a playthrough of the sequel to one of my favorite horror games, The Coma, and realized there were a lot of elements there that could be applied to the ATEEZ-verse. From there it just kind of...snowballed. 
> 
> My hope is to get this thing posted in its entirety before October ends, as it's a horror au (so perfect for Halloween!), but I refuse to make any promises. I have the whole thing planned out, though, so all that remains is the writing. If you decide to read this, I do hope you'll enjoy it! This is my first ATEEZ au and I'm going to be smooshing a lot of different things together; the story snippets, game elements, potentially even a few music video moments! 
> 
> Happy October!


End file.
